Desires, Part 2
Desires, Chapter 2
By Xie
It is said that desire is a product of the will, but the converse is in fact true: will is a product of desire. -Denis Diderot
Justin’s POV
I walked into the kitchen and Brian was standing at the counter eating melon chunks out of a plastic container. He was wearing half-unbuttoned jeans and no shirt, which was probably going to make it fairly hard for me to concentrate on cooking.
“This is dinner?” I put my bag down on the counter and picked up the lid of the container. Eight ounces of cantaloupe, $3.49 from Whole Foods Market. “Brian, you paid $3.50 for eight ounces of cantaloupe? You could have bought a whole cantaloupe and cut it up yourself for a fraction of that.”
Brian looked at me as he speared another chunk with a fork. “Yeah, and then I’d have had to cut it up myself.”
“Jesus, Brian.” I started emptying my bag.
“What culinary delights did you bring home, dear?” He put down the now-empty melon container and started poking at the plastic bags I was spreading out on the counter. “What the fuck is this?”
I sighed. “They’re Chinese herbs my acupuncturist wants me to use.”
He gave me a look like I’d just said they were dried elephant testicles. Which I’m fairly sure they weren’t, she’d sworn to me it was all just herbs.
Brian opened one of the bags and sniffed at it. “This smells like cinnamon mixed with something dead.”
I grabbed the bag out of his hand and closed it. “Go eat your seven dollars a pound cantaloupe and let me eat something. She says that I need to reduce my stress and eat regular meals.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Lack of regular meals is your problem. Where did you find this quack?”
“Search your memory, maybe it’ll come back to you. Does ‘You should try it, it can’t hurt’ ring any bells?”
Brian looked skeptically at the herbs I had put into a pot of water. “OK, maybe I was wrong. Justin, that shit stinks. And I thought we tried this once. The magic tea?”
I ignored him and turned the flame on under the pot, and went to the refrigerator and got some cold pizza out and ate it while I waited for the water to boil.
Brian threw the melon container and the empty herb bag in the trash, and got a beer out of the refrigerator. The guy was having cantaloupe and beer for dinner and attacking me for making herb tea. Then he came up behind me and nuzzled my neck, so I decided to nag him about his eating habits some other time. I turned around and wrapped my arms around him, and he put his chin on my head and we stood there for a second.
“So, what else did the voodoo priestess say, besides prescribing magic tea, stress reduction, and regular meals, by which she probably didn’t mean leftover pizza?” He had put his beer down and was gently rubbing my back.
“Mmmmmmm.” I didn’t feel like talking while he was doing that. “She said my partner had to give me massages every night.” His hands were working the muscles in my shoulders.
“What did she say about your hand?”
I lifted my head up from his shoulder and turned back to the stove. The herbs weren’t boiling yet, but they were getting close, and starting to smell pretty strong. “This is disgusting.”
“Not as disgusting as the shit you made me drink. And I use the term ‘shit’ in its literal sense.”
“Desperate times called for desperate measures.” I grinned at him over my shoulder and he glared at me.
“Talk.”
“She said my hand is fine, my grip strength is improved, the symptoms are related to my using it more, but that if I’m worried, I should see my neurologist.”
“And are you worried?”
“No, but since you obviously are, I made an appointment.” I was overdue for a checkup anyway. “But it’s not for almost three weeks, and even that was a cancellation. There is clearly a shortage of neurologists in Pittsburgh.”
“Something to consider the next time you make a career choice.”
“It was that or art. A close decision.” I was pouring the herbal concoction through a strainer into a mug. I sniffed at it before tasting it. My acupuncturist had sworn it would taste better if I drank it really hot. It was a little bit sweet, but it was sort of like drinking dirt. It was too hot, so I stood there blowing on it. I looked at Brian and he was watching me and laughing. “Oh, shut up and go get on your treadmill.”
He shook his head. “I’m going swimming.”
“You have to wait a half hour after eating.”
“I thought maybe you’d blow me while my food was digesting.” He took a swallow of his beer, and I took a swallow of my dirt tea. Then I drained the cup. And almost gagged.
“OK.”
He looked surprised. “That was easy.”
“Anything to get that taste out of my mouth.”
“Wow. I might actually have just lost my desire to have sex with you.”
“I worry about that constantly.” I had my arms around his neck and I could feel his half-hard cock pressing into my stomach.
Brian’s POV
I could tell Justin was tense when he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t seem to want to talk, so after I extracted the bare minimum information necessary to figure out what the fuck was going on, I decided to just focus on fucking the tension out of him. He seemed happy enough with that plan.
We started in the kitchen but he dragged me out of there into the media room, probably to get away from the tea fumes. Chinese medicine would be a lot more popular if it smelled better. He pushed me back over the arm of the sofa and then pounced on me, unfastening the rest of the buttons on my jeans, and pushing them down just enough to get his mouth and his hand on me.
Justin's tongue was all over my cock, swirling on the head and then the sensitive spot under the rim, and then down the shaft, and back to the head, all without ever breaking the rhythm of his hand or his lips sliding up and down it. And once he'd licked and kissed every inch of me, and had me arched under his mouth with my hands in his hair, pulling and thrusting up at him, he took his hand away and dove all the way down on me, taking me deep into his throat and humming and swallowing around me while I came.
He crawled up to my face. I had my eyes closed but I knew he was grinning. Little shit. But the truth was, so was I. I opened my eyes a few minutes later, and he was looking right at me, lying across my chest with the exact smile I’d predicted. So I grabbed him and flipped him over, pinning him to the sofa under me, kicking my jeans the rest of the way off.
He didn’t stop smiling.
I dragged my tongue from his jaw to his throat, and then bit into the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. He hissed and arched up, but I pulled my hips back and didn’t let him rub against me. I had my weight on my arms, and kept sliding down him with my mouth, until I felt the soft skin of his belly, and his cock pressing against my face.
I started to lick it, big long strokes from the bottom to the top, and then all around the head. Justin was still lifting his hips up, following my tongue, and I grabbed his cock hard in my fist. I felt a little gush of pre-come in my mouth when I did it, and he moaned.
I took my mouth off his cock. “Is this what you want, Justin?” I glanced up at him and he shook his head. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
He looked down his body at me, his eyes glassy. “Yeah. Do it.”
I kept licking his cock, but I wet my finger and slipped it into his tight hole. I bent it and wriggled it around, and felt him relax around me. I locked my lips just under the head of his cock while I brushed my finger against his prostate, and got another rush of pre-come in my mouth again, and felt his cock get harder in my hand.
He started to pull away from my mouth and turn over, but I didn’t let him. I put one of his legs over the back of the sofa, and scooped the other one over my arm, and knelt between his legs. He had his head back with his arms behind it, watching me.
I leaned over him and got the lube out of the drawer of the table next to the couch. Justin smiled while I lubed my cock, and then I put just a tiny bit in his ass. He lifted his eyebrows at me, and I just smiled, and pressed the head of my cock against his hole. “It’s enough.” Then I pushed in and he groaned and covered his face with his arms.
I let him stay like that while I eased my way into him. I still wasn’t used to the tightness and heat and the texture, and was starting to think I never would be. It was just as well I didn’t have him looking into my eyes while I went into him. It made it too intense sometimes.
Once I was inside, and felt him relax enough so I could move in him, I shifted forward and put my weight back on my arms. His legs wrapped around my waist, and I pushed his arms away from his face. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and kept his eyes open and locked onto mine while I started to move inside him. I watched his face while I deliberately moved my cock over his prostate, and saw him bite his lip. His eyes closed for a second, but he opened them again when I said his name.
He kept looking at me, and I kept moving in him, and every time his eyes started to flutter closed or his arms would start to move back towards his face, I’d say his name and he’d moan and look at me again. I could feel my orgasm starting to build and I knew his was too, because his cock was jerking between us. I dropped my head down and kissed him, and he grabbed my neck with one hand and let his other one go to his cock and start jerking himself off.
I shoved into him more deeply then, and he moaned into my mouth, and I pulled back and fucked him hard, letting him cover his eyes with his free arm and even closing mine. And I came inside him, and felt his come spurting out onto my stomach and chest, and finally hung over him, breathing hard, while his legs dropped down on either side of me.
He moved his arm off his face and I saw his eyes again, and he smiled. I kissed him and he shifted to his side, and I slipped down between him and the back of the sofa, and kissed him some more.
“Was that what your acupuncturist meant by stress reduction?”
He laughed a little and nuzzled my face. “I don’t think that was quite what she had in mind, but I’m all relaxed now.”
“Good.”
“I love you, Brian.” He had his eyes closed when he said it.
I kissed him on the side of his face. “Me too.”
Justin opened his eyes and smiled at me.
Justin’s POV
I slept in the next morning. I didn’t feel like working on Rage, even though I knew I had to. Michael and I were getting together to go over a few changes that afternoon, and the end-of-June deadline was getting close. So I pushed myself to put in a few hours in the studio, until my hand started cramping. I switched to the computer to finish.
When I got to Michael’s store he seemed distracted, but it was pretty busy so I just went in the back and spread everything out and waited for him to finish with his customers. He finally put a “be back soon” sign on the door, locked it, and came and sat down on the floor next to me.
Twice I went to make changes to the drawings, but my hand wasn’t cooperating, and the second time, Michael took the pen away from me. “Brian would kill me if I let you draw when your hand was doing that.”
“Yeah, well, neither you or Brian can do this.”
Michael normally would have reassured me at that point, but he just nodded and went back to the drawings. He kept my pen, though.
After we were done, I started stacking the drawings back up and putting them in my portfolio. “Mel and Lindz and the kids are coming out this Saturday to swim, why don’t you and Ben come? And Hunter, if he’s around.”
“Maybe. I’ll ask Ben.” He still sounded distracted.
I was at the door and turned to say goodbye, and got a good look at his face. “What the fuck’s wrong, Michael?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Okay, you’re scaring me with the Brian Kinney impersonation.”
Michael laughed. “You play dirty.”
It was my turn to shrug. “What’s going on?”
He walked away from me, over to the counter, and started restlessly moving things around. He had his back to me. “It’s really nothing much, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Ben’s pancreatic enzymes started going up again, they took him off his HIV meds to see if they’d go down, they did, but his viral load started going up again, and now they’re trying another drug combination that should be easier on his pancreas.”
I didn’t say anything for a second, and could actually feel my brain trying not to take in what Michael had just said. I didn’t think for weeks or months at a time about Ben having HIV. Which was easy to do since he looked like a Greek god, just like all the guys in the ads for HIV meds. I sighed.
“I’m really sorry, Michael. Is he OK now that they’ve changed the meds?”
“Yeah, he’s fine, his viral load went right back down and his enzymes are still normal. I just, get worried. I don’t know.” He had stopped moving things around on the counter and turned around to face me.
“Have you told Brian?” I couldn’t imagine Brian wouldn’t have said something to me, but you never knew with him and Michael.
But Michael shook his head. “No.”
“You should.” He didn’t say anything. “You really should.”
He looked at me. “Are you going to say something to him?”
“Yeah, as soon as he gets home tonight. Which means you have a window of a couple of hours to call him and tell him to meet you for dinner or something.”
Michael laughed, walked over to the door, took off the sign, and unlocked it. “Bye, Justin. I’ll think about it.” But he hugged me goodbye.
Ten minutes after I got in the car, my cell rang. It was Brian.
“So, Michael wants me to meet him at the diner after work. Weren’t you there all afternoon?”
“Yeah. We worked on Rage.”
Brian didn’t say anything, and neither did I.
“Okay, I get it. Michael wants to talk to me. So, you can probably guess when I’ll be home better than I can.”
“Later.”
“Later.”
When I got home, I carried my portfolio into the studio, but couldn’t bring myself to work on the fucking comic anymore. I wanted to work on my paintings. I had five months to get twelve pieces done for the show. I’d done that much work when I was in school, but this was different. Harder, and more important. I remembered Ben and I talking about creativity on a deadline at Mel and Lindsay’s housewarming party, and how it sucked.
I thought, fuck Rage, and sat down at my computer and opened the program I used to design my paintings. I had three of them mapped out, and started to work on the fourth. These were going to be painted on fiberglass, which I’d just started working with, and I was curious about how the designs would translate to the different surface. I got lost in my work for a while, and finally went out to the kitchen and made some eggs. It was after 10 and Brian still wasn’t home, and he hadn’t called.
Just past midnight, I was shutting down my computer and heard Brian’s car. I was waiting in the hall when he came in. He was carrying his suit jacket, and his tie was off, his shirt open at the neck and the sleeves rolled up. He didn’t stop when he saw me, just threw his jacket over the banister.
“Hey. How’s Michael?”
Predictably, Brian shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s an asshole for not talking about this while it was going on. I told him not to be a martyr next time.”
“That was supportive and caring of you.”
He quirked half a smile. “Michael gets plenty of support and caring from Ben. From me he needs his ass kicked.”
“I think Ben probably kicks Michael’s ass from time to time.”
Brian was walking into the media room. “He’d have to.”
I followed him. He was pouring a scotch. At least he wasn’t drinking it from the bottle. “Are you coming to bed soon?”
He shrugged again. Then he poured another drink.
“Okay, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you when you come up.” I hesitated a second, but I went over and kissed him. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he kissed me back, and his mouth was soft and tasted like scotch. I got my arms around him and held onto him, wishing that Brian could just let go of shit sometimes. But after a minute he let go of me, and carried his glass over to the window, and I went upstairs alone.
Brian’s POV
On Saturday morning, I woke up with Justin’s tongue in my ass.
"This new generation of alarm clocks has some interesting features." My arms were folded under the pillow, my head was turned to the side, and I was looking down at Justin lying between my legs.
He lifted his head up from my ass and grinned. "You have no idea." He went back to licking me.
"No, but I think my alarm clock has some ideas." He didn't say anything, just kept lapping at my hole. I stretched and somehow he took advantage of that and got his shoulders behind my thighs, pushing me up on my knees. I laughed. “Okay, I’ve got the picture. Either get up or get fucked.”
He was holding my cheeks apart with his hands, and he kissed my hole softly. “No, you don’t really. There’s no ‘or.’ You’re getting fucked, and then you’re getting up.”
I would have said something but just as he said that, he slid his tongue and a finger into my ass, and I jerked away from his mouth. He had one hand on my hip, though, and I didn’t get far. He was getting tricky. I dropped my forehead down onto the pillow and concentrated on not moaning while he fucked me with his finger and his tongue. He was softly rubbing my prostate with his knuckle and I was backing up against his mouth. I felt myself folding my lips inward and I buried my face deeper into the pillow, feeling my arms under it. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
He was really fucking good at this. I wondered how long he’d been licking me before I actually woke up.
I knew he was reaching for the lube because the hand still holding my cheeks open moved. And in a few seconds I felt a second finger wriggling at my opening, this one cold and wet. But I didn’t say anything, just let him slip it in with the other one, let him lube my ass and kiss the insides of my thighs. I pushed up a little more onto my knees, and shoved the pillow out of the way, and buried my head in my arms. I was rocking against his fingers, and he was moving behind me.
I felt the heat of his cock resting against my opening. And when he started to press inside me, I was surprised, like I always was, at the stretch and the pain and the fact that I leaned into it without thinking, without hesitating.
Justin’s hands were on my hips and he had dropped his head down and was kissing my back. I felt my ass tighten on him, and heard him moan, and realized I’d moaned too, because it was still vibrating in my throat.
“Brian.” His voice sounded thick. “Brian, Brian.” I loved hearing him say my name like that, like he couldn’t help it, like he wasn’t even aware of it. I thought of all the times I’d realized I’d been moaning his name over and over while I pulled on his hair or shoved into his ass, and just the thought of it made me crazy, made me reach my arm behind and slap at his thigh and his ass, try to pull his hand off my hip and onto my cock, dripping under me.
“Justin…” We were both sweating, and he was starting to fuck me faster, and then I felt him change his angle a little and stroke directly against my prostate every time he pulled out or slammed back in, and finally move his hand down and fist my cock. And then I stopped thinking, just fucked his hand and opened my ass for him, and let him jerk and shudder into me, feeling his come gushing hot and wet inside me, while a hot wave of feeling exploded up from inside of me and out of my cock in bursts.
I was still on my knees panting, and Justin was still inside me, but he was gently pulling out. I hated that, because it always hurt no matter how careful he was, and it always left me feeling a little strange. The head of his cock jerked past my opening, and I flinched even though I tried not to, and Justin’s hand was on my back, soothing me. He kissed me softly on the nape of my neck, and then he lay down next to me while I turned on my side and let him nestle into me, our legs tangled up.
My ass was sore, and I could feel his come inside it, and on the backs of my thighs. He had his face pressed against my chest, and he trailed his hand down my side and between my legs, and I spread them a little more. He was touching my asshole, not going inside but sliding his fingers in the come and lube around it. I sighed and squeezed down on his arm with my legs. “So, weren’t we supposed to be getting up?” My voice broke a little, and I cleared my throat.
He stretched lazily against me, and pulled back his head and smiled, his eyes half-closed. I could see just a little bit of happy blue under his lashes. “Mmmm. It’s early. They won’t be here until around 11. We have time.” And he curled his head under my chin and I fell back to sleep.
When I woke up, he wasn’t there, and I was all crusted with come and lube. I got out of bed, and my ass was still sore. After I showered, I put on my swimsuit, and pulled my jeans on over it. Lindsay and Melanie and the kids were coming, and I wasn’t sure what time it was, because as usual Justin had hidden the clock. Manipulative twat.
I got downstairs and poured a cup of coffee, and went and found him in his studio, working on the comic. “No work. It’s Saturday.”
He looked up, and smiled. I wondered if he’d gotten back to sleep at all. He looked tired. “I’d listen to you more if you weren’t the biggest fucking workaholic on the planet.”
I shrugged. “Well, maybe you need someone to fuck you into a stupor and hide the clock.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking amused. “Maybe I do. Are you volunteering?”
I grinned at him and started walking towards him. He laughed. “Speaking of clocks, Brian … it’s almost 11. I think we might have to schedule that for tomorrow morning instead.”
Just as he said that, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Justin and I walked out to let everyone in through the gate to the pool. I hugged Lindsay while Mel and Justin helped the kids carry their inflatable toys inside.
“Michael and Ben are right behind us.” Lindsay smiled at me, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a big straw hat in her hand. I walked through the gate with her, my arm looped over her shoulder.
Melanie was in the pool already, bouncing Jenny up and down in the water, while Gus stood on the edge, trying to get his toe into the water without falling in. I dropped my jeans and left them in a pile on the ground, and ran to the edge of the pool and dove in, coming up in front of Gus. He was laughing, and I held up my arms and he jumped into them, squealing when he hit the cool water. I let him ride around on my back while I swam for a while, but then he wanted to show me how he could swim by himself, so I hoisted myself onto the side of the pool and watched him do a clumsy crawl from one side of the pool to the other.
Justin had brought out sodas in a big cooler, and chips, and Gus got out to have some. Justin came and sat next to me, resting his hand on my thigh. “I’m going to try not to tell you how cute you and Gus are because I know it’ll make you act all mean for the rest of the day.”
“I’m not cute.”
“Gus is cute.”
“Okay.” He really was. At some point he’d start to hate that. Something Justin should know about. But he just grinned at me again and got up.
Ben and Michael got there a few minutes later, and I took a long look at Ben’s face. He looked rested and healthy and happy. And really, so did Michael. I relaxed a little, and gave Michael a hug, and dragged him over to the table. Mel and Lindsay had brought pasta salad, and we had a huge platter of fruit that Justin had actually cut up from its natural organic state, and a bowl of yogurt to dip it in. Since none of that seemed like anything Gus would consider putting in his mouth, Mel was in the kitchen making sandwiches. I went in there to get some beer, which Justin had somehow neglected to mix in with the sodas.
“I thought you’d sworn never to prepare food on that table again.” I grabbed several beers, and twisted the top off one and took a swallow before I turned around. Melanie was trying not to laugh while she spread mayonnaise on bread.
“Thanks, asshole, I’d forgotten all about that. Remind me to send you this week’s therapy bill.”
“Just this week? I must be slipping.”
She flicked the knife at me and a blob of mayonnaise landed on my chest. “Hey!”
She laughed. “You and Gus were so adorable in the pool. That must have just killed you.”
I contemplated her over my beer. “Justin already pointed that out to me. It won’t happen again.”
“Suck it up. It comes with parenthood.”
I handed her a beer.
After lunch, I got Michael stoned. I was a big believer in medicinal marijuana. We smoked it behind the garage, so we wouldn’t be a bad example for our kids. Then we went out to the swing set.
Michael was sitting at the bottom of Gus’ slide and I was sitting on one of the swings. I’d brought a beer with me, and I leaned all the way over and handed it to Michael. He took a swallow and handed it back. “You’re the worst influence.”
I nodded. “I am.” I was proud.
“How’s Justin’s hand?”
I wasn’t expecting that. “It’s fine, it’s the same, why?”
“He was having trouble with it at the shop the other day. I was just wondering, after you ripped me a new asshole for letting him draw that time.”
I frowned. “As far as I know, it’s fine. I’ll ask him. But he’d have told me if there was anything going on.”
Michael smiled. “You two are so married. And you’re not sucking anyone’s dick but his. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve known you too fucking long.”
I didn’t say anything, just twisted the swing around a few times and let it unwind, spinning me around. Michael snorted.
“Well?”
I shrugged.
“You have plenty to say when it’s my life.”
“You,” I pointed out, “were fucking up your life.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re always really receptive to having your fuck-ups pointed out to you.”
“Fine, I’m not fucking anyone but Justin. Are you extremely happy that I’ve turned into a fucking lesbian just like you and Ben and Ted and Blake and the munchers?”
Michael reached out and took my beer again. “The munchers didn’t turn into lesbians, they already were.”
“I stand corrected.”
“And I’m happy that you’re happy. The rest is bullshit.”
I looked at him. My little Mikey was growing up. I got off the swing and pulled him up from where he was sitting on the slide, and gave him a big kiss. “C’mon, let’s go throw Lindsay in the pool. She said she doesn’t want to get her hair wet.”
Justin’s POV
Monday night Brian stuck his head into my studio while I was working on Rage. He caught me rubbing my hand, so he came in and started massaging it. He didn’t say anything to me about it, though. He knew I had a deadline. And I think he more or less had the whole subject on hold until I saw the neurologist.
“I just wanted to tell you, Ted and I have to go to Chicago on Thursday, I’ll be back Friday night.”
I nodded, my eyes closed. It always felt so good to have him rub my hand.
Brian started working each one of my fingers. “Emmett wanted to come by Friday and look at something for the party, is that OK?”
“Sure, I’ll pretend I think he’s going to listen to any input from us.”
Brian laughed. “I just let him do what he wants, he’s going to anyway, and it always turns out alright. I didn’t even know what he was going to do for Christmas, and it was fine.”
I agreed. It was. It was actually spectacular. Emmett had an amazing ability to be innovative and surprising without ever going too far. Which, all things considered, was almost inconceivable.
I leaned my head on Brian’s shoulder and the minute I did, I felt his touch change. I looked up at him and smiled.
He kissed me, his mouth closed and his lips dry. “You done for the night?”
I sighed. “I’m not, but I am.”
“I was going to go swimming, why don’t you come with me, or go get in the hot tub or something. Relax. I seem to recall your acupuncturist wanted you to relax, have more sex, relax, eat more, have more sex, relax, and let me fuck you in the pool.”
“Okay, some of that sounded familiar. But a few of those things you might have, you know, made up.” I kissed him. He opened his mouth and I kissed him some more, feeling his tongue sliding all over and under mine. I was feeling a little dizzy. If I’d been in the hot tub, I’d have drowned.
He grinned and took me out to the pool, pulling my clothes off and then his. I let him undress me, sighing when he kissed and licked each part he uncovered, and when he knelt down on the pile of our clothes and pressed his face into my stomach and kissed it. I had no idea why things were so good with us. It was like he’d just totally stopped resisting it. And it had only taken six years of misery, suffering, agony, breakups, reunions, and incredibly hot sex. I laughed.
He looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “This is funny?”
I stroked his hair. “How the fuck did we get here?”
He laughed and stood up. “Don’t ask that question, it’s too fucking terrifying to even think about.” He kissed me hard.
“Brian? Did we just talk about our relationship?”
“Fuck. We did.”
I grinned at him.
“I love you. Now, get in the pool and let me fuck your ass.”
I threw my arms around his neck and stood on my toes and kissed him. “I just love it when you’re all romantic.”
He bit me on my neck and picked me up and jumped in the pool with me. I was sputtering and shaking my head when he stood up, still holding onto me. “Asshole. This is your idea of foreplay?”
He laughed. “You love it.”
“So, you want to fuck me in the pool? Any idea what we’re going to do for lube? Because if you think that thing is getting near my ass without lube, you’re out of your mind.”
“I have it all figured out.”
I looked at him skeptically. He didn’t even put me down, just nodded over to the basket next to the lounge chair nearest the pool. He shifted me onto his hip, and I put my legs around his waist and held on, curious. He leaned out and tugged the edge of the basket closer, and pulled a bottle of lube out.
Oil-based lube.
I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, the last taboo.”
“Yeah, well, I did a little research.”
I took the bottle out of his hand and read the ingredients. I was pickier about what went in my ass than what I ate. “You could cook with this. It’s totally natural.”
Brian laughed. “Okay, if you start cooking with our lube, I’m divorcing you.”
“We’re not married.”
“If we were, I’d divorce you for that.”
I opened the lube and smelled it, but it didn’t have an odor. I poured it on my hand and put my finger down to my asshole. Brian obligingly shifted me back in front of him so I had better access. “This feels good. And weird.” A little bit of water went in with my finger. I tried not to think about how much water would go in with Brian’s cock. I got more lube and slicked it on Brian’s cock. “I hope this doesn’t clog the filter.”
“People swim with suntan oil on all the time.”
I had my forehead against his and was angling my ass onto his cock. “Okay, stop talking now.”
His hands gripped my hips and he helped me slide my ass down onto his cock a little. “Okay, stop.” I let myself adjust to him being inside me, and the little rush of cold water lapping at my stretched asshole. “This is weird.”
Brian’s lips were folded in, and he pressed them and then released them. “I thought we weren’t talking. But if we are, ‘this is weird’ falls into the category of mood killer.”
I bounced a little in the water and slid down further on his cock. He gasped and I tightened on him. “Your mood seems fine.”
“We’re still talking.” And he suddenly jerked down hard on my hips, and pushed all the way into me.
The minute I felt him do that, I grabbed onto his neck and wrapped my legs even tighter around him. He was holding me but I weighed almost nothing in the water, and lifting off him was almost effortless. I buried my face in his neck and fucked myself on him, while he kept his hands on my hips and moaned into my ear. “Fuck, Justin, this feels amazing.”
I smiled into his neck, tasting the pool water and his sweat. His hair was wet and strands of it were sticking to my lips. I was trying to breathe but it was hard with his cock going into me so deep, it was pushing the air out of my lungs.
I leaned back, my arms still locked behind Brian’s neck, tipping my head back as far as I could and letting him move me with his hands on my hips, my legs wrapped around him. The water felt even cooler now against the heated skin of my hole, and it even felt cold on my thighs and balls. But Brian’s cock felt hot, and the contrast was amazing. I curved back into him and held on with one arm, and grabbed my cock in my right hand and started jerking myself off.
I had no idea how Brian was still standing up, but he was, even though I could tell he was close to coming. His breath was shallow and loud in my ear, and his grip on me was painfully hard. He was going to leave bruises on my hips. I angled myself a little better and felt a shock in my prostate that echoed out to my balls, and then I felt my come spill out of my cock, scalding hot on my hand in the water. I moaned against Brian’s ear and felt him go suddenly still and then felt his hot come flooding into me, hotter than it had ever felt, from the contrast with the cold water. “Oh fuck, Brian fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
He had his teeth on my shoulder and I felt him clamp down, and the pain of it turned into pleasure before I even realized what he was doing, and flowed down my spine into my balls and pushed the last bit of my orgasm out of me. I was holding onto Brian’s neck and waist and gasping, and he had his arms around me and moved back to the edge of the pool and leaned against it, breathing hard.
“Fuck.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just kissed him.
After a few minutes, he reached down and gently pulled out of me. I felt a twinge of pain and then a little feeling of emptiness, and a little water, too. I laughed, but it sounded almost like a giggle.
“Think we can get out here, or should we use the stairs?”
I looked at the side of the pool. It suddenly seemed daunting. “Stairs.”
Brian laughed and held my hand and waded over to the stairs and pulled me up them. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me, and then went and got a big towel from the foot of one of the lounge chairs and dried me off. I dried him off and pulled him down on the chair and we kissed for a while.
“Brian?”
He murmured against my hair. “Mmmm?”
"Do you know there are people who think monogamy is boring?"
"I seem to remember thinking that once myself."
"What happened?"
He thought for a minute. “I hadn’t accounted for the erotic potential of FOCUS.” And then he grinned at me and started kissing me again.
Brian’s POV
Something about hanging out with Ted when he wasn’t drinking always made me want to drink more. Which wasn’t a problem for him. He always seemed amused. The problem was, he’d just sit there waiting for me to pass a certain level of drunkenness, and then he’d start with the little comments and insinuations and questions.
Actually, he did that a lot lately even when I wasn’t drinking. Probably not a good idea to hire friends. Or have friends. One day they knew you and you were totally fucked.
I’d had three scotches waiting for dinner and one after, and I was feeling pleasantly buzzed while Ted drank his decaf coffee and we waited for our check. We’d gone to a steak place I knew in Chicago after a day of meetings. I took a sip of my fifth scotch and my cell phone rang. It was lying on the table and I glanced at the caller ID. It was Justin, so I answered.
“So, what are you wearing?” He obviously thought he was being extremely clever.
“Let me have Ted tell you.” I handed my phone to Ted. “It’s Justin, he wants to know what I’m wearing.”
“Hi, Justin. He’s wearing a greenish cotton knit sweater and tan linen slacks.” Ted peered over the table and I obligingly pulled my sweater up. “And a really nice brown leather belt, is that Prada?”
He handed the phone back to me and Justin was laughing. “Asshole.”
I smiled. “Later.”
“Later.” He hung up and I snapped the phone shut. And then faced Ted, who was smirking at me.
“What?”
“I’m just sitting here drinking coffee and having a wonderful time thinking about how totally fucked you are, Brian. In the history of being fucked you’re the most completely fucked guy ever.”
“These are the little moments that make me wonder why I hired you.”
He laughed. “So, seriously. You did it. Monogamy not as monotonous as you thought?”
I contemplated the half-empty glass of scotch and the likelihood that Ted would hold anything I said against me in the future. The certainty, I meant. “So far, I’m wondering how the two words ever came to be related.” The waiter brought our check and left before I could put my card into the folder. I sighed, and finished my drink. Ted was looking at me. “What?”
“Just wondering what it took to get you to think one person was enough for you.”
“Justin’s always been too fucking much, that was the problem.” I thought I was being funny but it came out profound. This is why I hated Ted.
He didn’t laugh, just looked thoughtful.
“Don’t read too much into this, Theodore. I’m shitfaced.”
Back at the hotel, I called Justin. He answered on the third ring. “Hey. Sorry about before.”
I bet. “It’s okay, what are you doing now?”
He sighed. “Working on Rage.”
“If you hate it, why do you do it?”
“I don’t hate it. I like it. I like being the guy who draws Rage, I like the money, I like the comic when it’s done. I just hate doing it when I’d rather be getting my paintings ready. And I hate deadlines.”
“Okay. So, what are you wearing?” I smiled when he laughed. “Why don’t you go to bed, Justin?” And call me when you get there, I thought.
He sighed again. “I can’t. I really have to work now.”
“It’s after 10.”
“Does that work on you?”
“Not usually.”
He was quiet for a second and I almost started to say goodnight. “My neurologist’s office called, they had a cancellation for tomorrow so I’m going in early.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t Emmett coming by tomorrow?” Not that I really cared.
“I called him, it’s fine.”
“You know, Justin, I really hate the phone.”
Justin laughed. “Me too, at least, when I’m talking to you. You suck at it.”
"Remember the other day when you stopped by Kinnetik?"
"Yeah."
"And you interrupted Ted and me while we were working?"
"Ted was showing you something on Uncrate, but okay."
"Whatever. We could have been working."
"Okay, we’ll remember it your way."
"Well, I decided that entitled me to call you up and interrupt you while you’re working and have phone sex."
"That does seem fair."
“Good. Shut down whatever you’re doing, go upstairs, take off all your clothes, and call me back. In ten minutes. Or I’m gonna jerk off without you.”
I heard him laughing. “Really, you make your living in advertising? And that’s your idea of persuasion?”
“You said it seemed fair. I thought that meant I’d already persuaded you.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back in ten minutes. But you’re gonna tell Michael it’s your fault if I miss this deadline.”
“Deal. Later.”
“Later.”
Ted and I had meetings with our client starting early the next day. Blake was flying up to meet Ted and they were staying the weekend. Justin had said he’d call me after his appointment, but he called while my plane was in the air. When I called him back, it rolled to voice mail. His message said everything was fine, but he’d sounded strange.
When I got home, only the automated lights were on. It wasn’t that late, only 9, but Justin’s car was in the garage, so I knew he was there. I checked the hot tub and his studio, and then I went up to the bedroom. He was sound asleep, his hair on the dark pillow, the bedside lamp on its lowest setting. I stood next to him and looked down at his face, and it looked like he’d been crying.
I didn’t know whether to wake him up or let him sleep, but the next moment he opened his eyes. It took a minute for them to focus, but when they did, he smiled. I felt better.
I knelt down next to the bed and touched his hair. “Allergies acting up?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” He didn’t look away from me though.
“You said everything was okay.”
“It is. I’m fine.”
“Then what’s wrong? What did the neurologist say?” We clearly had different definitions of “fine,” since mine didn’t involve tears. I waited for him to say something, and he finally did.
“She said my hand really is better. My grip is stronger, my hand is even bigger because I have increased muscle mass. The nerves are functioning better, and all the subjective and objective measures are either the same or improved. She said the same thing the acupuncturist said, the bluish discoloration and temperature changes are due to increased use of the hand and vascularization of the tissues.”
“That all sounds good.”
He nodded. “It is.”
This was getting us nowhere. I should have fucked him before asking about his day; he liked to talk after we fucked. But right at the moment, I didn’t feel like fucking.
I stood up and got undressed, and got into bed next to him. He scooted over a little and let me under the duvet. I pulled him into my arms. He was wearing his underwear and a t-shirt. And weirdly, socks. “Why are you wearing socks?”
“My feet were cold.”
I pushed his socks off with my feet, and he laughed and pulled off the rest of his clothes. That was better. I kissed his hair. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
He sighed, but he dropped the “everything’s fine” crap. “The doctor really did say my hand was better, and she said there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not that.”
I waited.
“It’s stupid.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. What is it?”
“I asked her if she thought the acupuncture had helped, and she wouldn’t say, you know how it is. She can’t say anything about it, it’s not a part of mainstream medical practice, she isn’t an expert in it, that type of thing. Overall, she managed to get across that she thought it probably helped and there was no reason not to keep doing it.”
He stopped talking again. Jesus. “Then what did she say?”
“I asked if she thought there could be further improvement. And she said she’d thought my previous condition was my permanent baseline, so even the improvement I’d had was more than she’d expected. And I knew that. And then she said there was no reason to think there couldn’t be more improvement.” He stopped talking.
“That sounds good.”
“I know. That’s not the problem. I told you, it’s stupid.”
“So, tell me the stupid part.”
“After she said there was no reason to think there couldn’t be more improvement, she said, ‘But of course, your hand will never return to normal function.’ And I knew that, I’ve known that for years now.” He stopped talking, but he didn’t have to say the rest. I got it. I got it with a big fucking kick in the gut. At some point the little twat had started hoping. And I knew better than anyone, hope is a motherfucker.
I thought about what to say. He was just lying there, his head on my chest. At some point I’d started playing with his hair, and I didn’t stop. His body felt relaxed, or maybe just exhausted. “Now you understand the virtue of being a cynical asshole.”
He laughed and sniffled a little. “Does that help?”
I rolled him over and lay on top of him, looking in his eyes and smoothing his hair back from his face. “Not noticeably.” I smiled when I said it.
He looked at me for a few seconds, and closed his eyes. I kissed him. I didn’t know what else to do.
I was kissing his mouth, and then his neck and shoulders, and he turned in my arms and I kissed the back of his neck. He sighed and stretched, and I ran my hands down his side, and he moved his ass back against my groin.
When I went into him, even though he opened up to me, I could feel he was tense and holding back. So I ignored the heat snaking through my cock and balls and the base of my spine, and fucked Justin every way I knew he loved it. I fucked him until that last little bit of hesitation and self-protection disappeared. I felt him arching himself against me, his hand reaching behind him and grabbing the back of my thigh, pulling me in tighter. His head was tucked into his other arm and every time I moved into him he moaned. I could see his cock straining against his stomach, leaking, and I wanted to grab it in my hand, but I didn’t. I just kept fucking him.
His fist was clenching on the pillows and he half-rolled over to his stomach. He was moaning and saying my name, and I wrapped my arm around his chest and slipped my other one underneath him and pulled him as tight against me as I could, and thrust into him, over and over, until I felt him grab my leg and start to come, in long shuddering waves, his ass clenching on my cock. I pulled back and then pushed in again, pressing against the tightness, and then I came too, my face in his hair.
He was still on his side and I was curled around him, my dick still buried in him. I was kissing his neck and shoulders, but softly. I smoothed his hair off his damp forehead. I whispered into his ear. “I love you.”
I could see the side of his face and he smiled and snuggled back a little harder against me. “I love you, too.”
The duvet was piled up behind me on the bed and partly on the floor, so I reached my arm back, tugging it until it was covering us both. I left my arm over Justin, twining my fingers with the fingers of his right hand and just holding on. I didn’t move, but he whispered, “Stay inside me.”
“Okay.” I kissed his ear and lay there holding him, until he fell asleep.
Continued here...
By Xie
It is said that desire is a product of the will, but the converse is in fact true: will is a product of desire. -Denis Diderot
Justin’s POV
I walked into the kitchen and Brian was standing at the counter eating melon chunks out of a plastic container. He was wearing half-unbuttoned jeans and no shirt, which was probably going to make it fairly hard for me to concentrate on cooking.
“This is dinner?” I put my bag down on the counter and picked up the lid of the container. Eight ounces of cantaloupe, $3.49 from Whole Foods Market. “Brian, you paid $3.50 for eight ounces of cantaloupe? You could have bought a whole cantaloupe and cut it up yourself for a fraction of that.”
Brian looked at me as he speared another chunk with a fork. “Yeah, and then I’d have had to cut it up myself.”
“Jesus, Brian.” I started emptying my bag.
“What culinary delights did you bring home, dear?” He put down the now-empty melon container and started poking at the plastic bags I was spreading out on the counter. “What the fuck is this?”
I sighed. “They’re Chinese herbs my acupuncturist wants me to use.”
He gave me a look like I’d just said they were dried elephant testicles. Which I’m fairly sure they weren’t, she’d sworn to me it was all just herbs.
Brian opened one of the bags and sniffed at it. “This smells like cinnamon mixed with something dead.”
I grabbed the bag out of his hand and closed it. “Go eat your seven dollars a pound cantaloupe and let me eat something. She says that I need to reduce my stress and eat regular meals.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Lack of regular meals is your problem. Where did you find this quack?”
“Search your memory, maybe it’ll come back to you. Does ‘You should try it, it can’t hurt’ ring any bells?”
Brian looked skeptically at the herbs I had put into a pot of water. “OK, maybe I was wrong. Justin, that shit stinks. And I thought we tried this once. The magic tea?”
I ignored him and turned the flame on under the pot, and went to the refrigerator and got some cold pizza out and ate it while I waited for the water to boil.
Brian threw the melon container and the empty herb bag in the trash, and got a beer out of the refrigerator. The guy was having cantaloupe and beer for dinner and attacking me for making herb tea. Then he came up behind me and nuzzled my neck, so I decided to nag him about his eating habits some other time. I turned around and wrapped my arms around him, and he put his chin on my head and we stood there for a second.
“So, what else did the voodoo priestess say, besides prescribing magic tea, stress reduction, and regular meals, by which she probably didn’t mean leftover pizza?” He had put his beer down and was gently rubbing my back.
“Mmmmmmm.” I didn’t feel like talking while he was doing that. “She said my partner had to give me massages every night.” His hands were working the muscles in my shoulders.
“What did she say about your hand?”
I lifted my head up from his shoulder and turned back to the stove. The herbs weren’t boiling yet, but they were getting close, and starting to smell pretty strong. “This is disgusting.”
“Not as disgusting as the shit you made me drink. And I use the term ‘shit’ in its literal sense.”
“Desperate times called for desperate measures.” I grinned at him over my shoulder and he glared at me.
“Talk.”
“She said my hand is fine, my grip strength is improved, the symptoms are related to my using it more, but that if I’m worried, I should see my neurologist.”
“And are you worried?”
“No, but since you obviously are, I made an appointment.” I was overdue for a checkup anyway. “But it’s not for almost three weeks, and even that was a cancellation. There is clearly a shortage of neurologists in Pittsburgh.”
“Something to consider the next time you make a career choice.”
“It was that or art. A close decision.” I was pouring the herbal concoction through a strainer into a mug. I sniffed at it before tasting it. My acupuncturist had sworn it would taste better if I drank it really hot. It was a little bit sweet, but it was sort of like drinking dirt. It was too hot, so I stood there blowing on it. I looked at Brian and he was watching me and laughing. “Oh, shut up and go get on your treadmill.”
He shook his head. “I’m going swimming.”
“You have to wait a half hour after eating.”
“I thought maybe you’d blow me while my food was digesting.” He took a swallow of his beer, and I took a swallow of my dirt tea. Then I drained the cup. And almost gagged.
“OK.”
He looked surprised. “That was easy.”
“Anything to get that taste out of my mouth.”
“Wow. I might actually have just lost my desire to have sex with you.”
“I worry about that constantly.” I had my arms around his neck and I could feel his half-hard cock pressing into my stomach.
Brian’s POV
I could tell Justin was tense when he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t seem to want to talk, so after I extracted the bare minimum information necessary to figure out what the fuck was going on, I decided to just focus on fucking the tension out of him. He seemed happy enough with that plan.
We started in the kitchen but he dragged me out of there into the media room, probably to get away from the tea fumes. Chinese medicine would be a lot more popular if it smelled better. He pushed me back over the arm of the sofa and then pounced on me, unfastening the rest of the buttons on my jeans, and pushing them down just enough to get his mouth and his hand on me.
Justin's tongue was all over my cock, swirling on the head and then the sensitive spot under the rim, and then down the shaft, and back to the head, all without ever breaking the rhythm of his hand or his lips sliding up and down it. And once he'd licked and kissed every inch of me, and had me arched under his mouth with my hands in his hair, pulling and thrusting up at him, he took his hand away and dove all the way down on me, taking me deep into his throat and humming and swallowing around me while I came.
He crawled up to my face. I had my eyes closed but I knew he was grinning. Little shit. But the truth was, so was I. I opened my eyes a few minutes later, and he was looking right at me, lying across my chest with the exact smile I’d predicted. So I grabbed him and flipped him over, pinning him to the sofa under me, kicking my jeans the rest of the way off.
He didn’t stop smiling.
I dragged my tongue from his jaw to his throat, and then bit into the curve of his neck where it met his shoulder. He hissed and arched up, but I pulled my hips back and didn’t let him rub against me. I had my weight on my arms, and kept sliding down him with my mouth, until I felt the soft skin of his belly, and his cock pressing against my face.
I started to lick it, big long strokes from the bottom to the top, and then all around the head. Justin was still lifting his hips up, following my tongue, and I grabbed his cock hard in my fist. I felt a little gush of pre-come in my mouth when I did it, and he moaned.
I took my mouth off his cock. “Is this what you want, Justin?” I glanced up at him and he shook his head. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
He looked down his body at me, his eyes glassy. “Yeah. Do it.”
I kept licking his cock, but I wet my finger and slipped it into his tight hole. I bent it and wriggled it around, and felt him relax around me. I locked my lips just under the head of his cock while I brushed my finger against his prostate, and got another rush of pre-come in my mouth again, and felt his cock get harder in my hand.
He started to pull away from my mouth and turn over, but I didn’t let him. I put one of his legs over the back of the sofa, and scooped the other one over my arm, and knelt between his legs. He had his head back with his arms behind it, watching me.
I leaned over him and got the lube out of the drawer of the table next to the couch. Justin smiled while I lubed my cock, and then I put just a tiny bit in his ass. He lifted his eyebrows at me, and I just smiled, and pressed the head of my cock against his hole. “It’s enough.” Then I pushed in and he groaned and covered his face with his arms.
I let him stay like that while I eased my way into him. I still wasn’t used to the tightness and heat and the texture, and was starting to think I never would be. It was just as well I didn’t have him looking into my eyes while I went into him. It made it too intense sometimes.
Once I was inside, and felt him relax enough so I could move in him, I shifted forward and put my weight back on my arms. His legs wrapped around my waist, and I pushed his arms away from his face. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and kept his eyes open and locked onto mine while I started to move inside him. I watched his face while I deliberately moved my cock over his prostate, and saw him bite his lip. His eyes closed for a second, but he opened them again when I said his name.
He kept looking at me, and I kept moving in him, and every time his eyes started to flutter closed or his arms would start to move back towards his face, I’d say his name and he’d moan and look at me again. I could feel my orgasm starting to build and I knew his was too, because his cock was jerking between us. I dropped my head down and kissed him, and he grabbed my neck with one hand and let his other one go to his cock and start jerking himself off.
I shoved into him more deeply then, and he moaned into my mouth, and I pulled back and fucked him hard, letting him cover his eyes with his free arm and even closing mine. And I came inside him, and felt his come spurting out onto my stomach and chest, and finally hung over him, breathing hard, while his legs dropped down on either side of me.
He moved his arm off his face and I saw his eyes again, and he smiled. I kissed him and he shifted to his side, and I slipped down between him and the back of the sofa, and kissed him some more.
“Was that what your acupuncturist meant by stress reduction?”
He laughed a little and nuzzled my face. “I don’t think that was quite what she had in mind, but I’m all relaxed now.”
“Good.”
“I love you, Brian.” He had his eyes closed when he said it.
I kissed him on the side of his face. “Me too.”
Justin opened his eyes and smiled at me.
Justin’s POV
I slept in the next morning. I didn’t feel like working on Rage, even though I knew I had to. Michael and I were getting together to go over a few changes that afternoon, and the end-of-June deadline was getting close. So I pushed myself to put in a few hours in the studio, until my hand started cramping. I switched to the computer to finish.
When I got to Michael’s store he seemed distracted, but it was pretty busy so I just went in the back and spread everything out and waited for him to finish with his customers. He finally put a “be back soon” sign on the door, locked it, and came and sat down on the floor next to me.
Twice I went to make changes to the drawings, but my hand wasn’t cooperating, and the second time, Michael took the pen away from me. “Brian would kill me if I let you draw when your hand was doing that.”
“Yeah, well, neither you or Brian can do this.”
Michael normally would have reassured me at that point, but he just nodded and went back to the drawings. He kept my pen, though.
After we were done, I started stacking the drawings back up and putting them in my portfolio. “Mel and Lindz and the kids are coming out this Saturday to swim, why don’t you and Ben come? And Hunter, if he’s around.”
“Maybe. I’ll ask Ben.” He still sounded distracted.
I was at the door and turned to say goodbye, and got a good look at his face. “What the fuck’s wrong, Michael?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Okay, you’re scaring me with the Brian Kinney impersonation.”
Michael laughed. “You play dirty.”
It was my turn to shrug. “What’s going on?”
He walked away from me, over to the counter, and started restlessly moving things around. He had his back to me. “It’s really nothing much, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. Ben’s pancreatic enzymes started going up again, they took him off his HIV meds to see if they’d go down, they did, but his viral load started going up again, and now they’re trying another drug combination that should be easier on his pancreas.”
I didn’t say anything for a second, and could actually feel my brain trying not to take in what Michael had just said. I didn’t think for weeks or months at a time about Ben having HIV. Which was easy to do since he looked like a Greek god, just like all the guys in the ads for HIV meds. I sighed.
“I’m really sorry, Michael. Is he OK now that they’ve changed the meds?”
“Yeah, he’s fine, his viral load went right back down and his enzymes are still normal. I just, get worried. I don’t know.” He had stopped moving things around on the counter and turned around to face me.
“Have you told Brian?” I couldn’t imagine Brian wouldn’t have said something to me, but you never knew with him and Michael.
But Michael shook his head. “No.”
“You should.” He didn’t say anything. “You really should.”
He looked at me. “Are you going to say something to him?”
“Yeah, as soon as he gets home tonight. Which means you have a window of a couple of hours to call him and tell him to meet you for dinner or something.”
Michael laughed, walked over to the door, took off the sign, and unlocked it. “Bye, Justin. I’ll think about it.” But he hugged me goodbye.
Ten minutes after I got in the car, my cell rang. It was Brian.
“So, Michael wants me to meet him at the diner after work. Weren’t you there all afternoon?”
“Yeah. We worked on Rage.”
Brian didn’t say anything, and neither did I.
“Okay, I get it. Michael wants to talk to me. So, you can probably guess when I’ll be home better than I can.”
“Later.”
“Later.”
When I got home, I carried my portfolio into the studio, but couldn’t bring myself to work on the fucking comic anymore. I wanted to work on my paintings. I had five months to get twelve pieces done for the show. I’d done that much work when I was in school, but this was different. Harder, and more important. I remembered Ben and I talking about creativity on a deadline at Mel and Lindsay’s housewarming party, and how it sucked.
I thought, fuck Rage, and sat down at my computer and opened the program I used to design my paintings. I had three of them mapped out, and started to work on the fourth. These were going to be painted on fiberglass, which I’d just started working with, and I was curious about how the designs would translate to the different surface. I got lost in my work for a while, and finally went out to the kitchen and made some eggs. It was after 10 and Brian still wasn’t home, and he hadn’t called.
Just past midnight, I was shutting down my computer and heard Brian’s car. I was waiting in the hall when he came in. He was carrying his suit jacket, and his tie was off, his shirt open at the neck and the sleeves rolled up. He didn’t stop when he saw me, just threw his jacket over the banister.
“Hey. How’s Michael?”
Predictably, Brian shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s an asshole for not talking about this while it was going on. I told him not to be a martyr next time.”
“That was supportive and caring of you.”
He quirked half a smile. “Michael gets plenty of support and caring from Ben. From me he needs his ass kicked.”
“I think Ben probably kicks Michael’s ass from time to time.”
Brian was walking into the media room. “He’d have to.”
I followed him. He was pouring a scotch. At least he wasn’t drinking it from the bottle. “Are you coming to bed soon?”
He shrugged again. Then he poured another drink.
“Okay, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you when you come up.” I hesitated a second, but I went over and kissed him. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but he kissed me back, and his mouth was soft and tasted like scotch. I got my arms around him and held onto him, wishing that Brian could just let go of shit sometimes. But after a minute he let go of me, and carried his glass over to the window, and I went upstairs alone.
Brian’s POV
On Saturday morning, I woke up with Justin’s tongue in my ass.
"This new generation of alarm clocks has some interesting features." My arms were folded under the pillow, my head was turned to the side, and I was looking down at Justin lying between my legs.
He lifted his head up from my ass and grinned. "You have no idea." He went back to licking me.
"No, but I think my alarm clock has some ideas." He didn't say anything, just kept lapping at my hole. I stretched and somehow he took advantage of that and got his shoulders behind my thighs, pushing me up on my knees. I laughed. “Okay, I’ve got the picture. Either get up or get fucked.”
He was holding my cheeks apart with his hands, and he kissed my hole softly. “No, you don’t really. There’s no ‘or.’ You’re getting fucked, and then you’re getting up.”
I would have said something but just as he said that, he slid his tongue and a finger into my ass, and I jerked away from his mouth. He had one hand on my hip, though, and I didn’t get far. He was getting tricky. I dropped my forehead down onto the pillow and concentrated on not moaning while he fucked me with his finger and his tongue. He was softly rubbing my prostate with his knuckle and I was backing up against his mouth. I felt myself folding my lips inward and I buried my face deeper into the pillow, feeling my arms under it. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
He was really fucking good at this. I wondered how long he’d been licking me before I actually woke up.
I knew he was reaching for the lube because the hand still holding my cheeks open moved. And in a few seconds I felt a second finger wriggling at my opening, this one cold and wet. But I didn’t say anything, just let him slip it in with the other one, let him lube my ass and kiss the insides of my thighs. I pushed up a little more onto my knees, and shoved the pillow out of the way, and buried my head in my arms. I was rocking against his fingers, and he was moving behind me.
I felt the heat of his cock resting against my opening. And when he started to press inside me, I was surprised, like I always was, at the stretch and the pain and the fact that I leaned into it without thinking, without hesitating.
Justin’s hands were on my hips and he had dropped his head down and was kissing my back. I felt my ass tighten on him, and heard him moan, and realized I’d moaned too, because it was still vibrating in my throat.
“Brian.” His voice sounded thick. “Brian, Brian.” I loved hearing him say my name like that, like he couldn’t help it, like he wasn’t even aware of it. I thought of all the times I’d realized I’d been moaning his name over and over while I pulled on his hair or shoved into his ass, and just the thought of it made me crazy, made me reach my arm behind and slap at his thigh and his ass, try to pull his hand off my hip and onto my cock, dripping under me.
“Justin…” We were both sweating, and he was starting to fuck me faster, and then I felt him change his angle a little and stroke directly against my prostate every time he pulled out or slammed back in, and finally move his hand down and fist my cock. And then I stopped thinking, just fucked his hand and opened my ass for him, and let him jerk and shudder into me, feeling his come gushing hot and wet inside me, while a hot wave of feeling exploded up from inside of me and out of my cock in bursts.
I was still on my knees panting, and Justin was still inside me, but he was gently pulling out. I hated that, because it always hurt no matter how careful he was, and it always left me feeling a little strange. The head of his cock jerked past my opening, and I flinched even though I tried not to, and Justin’s hand was on my back, soothing me. He kissed me softly on the nape of my neck, and then he lay down next to me while I turned on my side and let him nestle into me, our legs tangled up.
My ass was sore, and I could feel his come inside it, and on the backs of my thighs. He had his face pressed against my chest, and he trailed his hand down my side and between my legs, and I spread them a little more. He was touching my asshole, not going inside but sliding his fingers in the come and lube around it. I sighed and squeezed down on his arm with my legs. “So, weren’t we supposed to be getting up?” My voice broke a little, and I cleared my throat.
He stretched lazily against me, and pulled back his head and smiled, his eyes half-closed. I could see just a little bit of happy blue under his lashes. “Mmmm. It’s early. They won’t be here until around 11. We have time.” And he curled his head under my chin and I fell back to sleep.
When I woke up, he wasn’t there, and I was all crusted with come and lube. I got out of bed, and my ass was still sore. After I showered, I put on my swimsuit, and pulled my jeans on over it. Lindsay and Melanie and the kids were coming, and I wasn’t sure what time it was, because as usual Justin had hidden the clock. Manipulative twat.
I got downstairs and poured a cup of coffee, and went and found him in his studio, working on the comic. “No work. It’s Saturday.”
He looked up, and smiled. I wondered if he’d gotten back to sleep at all. He looked tired. “I’d listen to you more if you weren’t the biggest fucking workaholic on the planet.”
I shrugged. “Well, maybe you need someone to fuck you into a stupor and hide the clock.”
He leaned back in his chair, looking amused. “Maybe I do. Are you volunteering?”
I grinned at him and started walking towards him. He laughed. “Speaking of clocks, Brian … it’s almost 11. I think we might have to schedule that for tomorrow morning instead.”
Just as he said that, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Justin and I walked out to let everyone in through the gate to the pool. I hugged Lindsay while Mel and Justin helped the kids carry their inflatable toys inside.
“Michael and Ben are right behind us.” Lindsay smiled at me, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a big straw hat in her hand. I walked through the gate with her, my arm looped over her shoulder.
Melanie was in the pool already, bouncing Jenny up and down in the water, while Gus stood on the edge, trying to get his toe into the water without falling in. I dropped my jeans and left them in a pile on the ground, and ran to the edge of the pool and dove in, coming up in front of Gus. He was laughing, and I held up my arms and he jumped into them, squealing when he hit the cool water. I let him ride around on my back while I swam for a while, but then he wanted to show me how he could swim by himself, so I hoisted myself onto the side of the pool and watched him do a clumsy crawl from one side of the pool to the other.
Justin had brought out sodas in a big cooler, and chips, and Gus got out to have some. Justin came and sat next to me, resting his hand on my thigh. “I’m going to try not to tell you how cute you and Gus are because I know it’ll make you act all mean for the rest of the day.”
“I’m not cute.”
“Gus is cute.”
“Okay.” He really was. At some point he’d start to hate that. Something Justin should know about. But he just grinned at me again and got up.
Ben and Michael got there a few minutes later, and I took a long look at Ben’s face. He looked rested and healthy and happy. And really, so did Michael. I relaxed a little, and gave Michael a hug, and dragged him over to the table. Mel and Lindsay had brought pasta salad, and we had a huge platter of fruit that Justin had actually cut up from its natural organic state, and a bowl of yogurt to dip it in. Since none of that seemed like anything Gus would consider putting in his mouth, Mel was in the kitchen making sandwiches. I went in there to get some beer, which Justin had somehow neglected to mix in with the sodas.
“I thought you’d sworn never to prepare food on that table again.” I grabbed several beers, and twisted the top off one and took a swallow before I turned around. Melanie was trying not to laugh while she spread mayonnaise on bread.
“Thanks, asshole, I’d forgotten all about that. Remind me to send you this week’s therapy bill.”
“Just this week? I must be slipping.”
She flicked the knife at me and a blob of mayonnaise landed on my chest. “Hey!”
She laughed. “You and Gus were so adorable in the pool. That must have just killed you.”
I contemplated her over my beer. “Justin already pointed that out to me. It won’t happen again.”
“Suck it up. It comes with parenthood.”
I handed her a beer.
After lunch, I got Michael stoned. I was a big believer in medicinal marijuana. We smoked it behind the garage, so we wouldn’t be a bad example for our kids. Then we went out to the swing set.
Michael was sitting at the bottom of Gus’ slide and I was sitting on one of the swings. I’d brought a beer with me, and I leaned all the way over and handed it to Michael. He took a swallow and handed it back. “You’re the worst influence.”
I nodded. “I am.” I was proud.
“How’s Justin’s hand?”
I wasn’t expecting that. “It’s fine, it’s the same, why?”
“He was having trouble with it at the shop the other day. I was just wondering, after you ripped me a new asshole for letting him draw that time.”
I frowned. “As far as I know, it’s fine. I’ll ask him. But he’d have told me if there was anything going on.”
Michael smiled. “You two are so married. And you’re not sucking anyone’s dick but his. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve known you too fucking long.”
I didn’t say anything, just twisted the swing around a few times and let it unwind, spinning me around. Michael snorted.
“Well?”
I shrugged.
“You have plenty to say when it’s my life.”
“You,” I pointed out, “were fucking up your life.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Yeah, you’re always really receptive to having your fuck-ups pointed out to you.”
“Fine, I’m not fucking anyone but Justin. Are you extremely happy that I’ve turned into a fucking lesbian just like you and Ben and Ted and Blake and the munchers?”
Michael reached out and took my beer again. “The munchers didn’t turn into lesbians, they already were.”
“I stand corrected.”
“And I’m happy that you’re happy. The rest is bullshit.”
I looked at him. My little Mikey was growing up. I got off the swing and pulled him up from where he was sitting on the slide, and gave him a big kiss. “C’mon, let’s go throw Lindsay in the pool. She said she doesn’t want to get her hair wet.”
Justin’s POV
Monday night Brian stuck his head into my studio while I was working on Rage. He caught me rubbing my hand, so he came in and started massaging it. He didn’t say anything to me about it, though. He knew I had a deadline. And I think he more or less had the whole subject on hold until I saw the neurologist.
“I just wanted to tell you, Ted and I have to go to Chicago on Thursday, I’ll be back Friday night.”
I nodded, my eyes closed. It always felt so good to have him rub my hand.
Brian started working each one of my fingers. “Emmett wanted to come by Friday and look at something for the party, is that OK?”
“Sure, I’ll pretend I think he’s going to listen to any input from us.”
Brian laughed. “I just let him do what he wants, he’s going to anyway, and it always turns out alright. I didn’t even know what he was going to do for Christmas, and it was fine.”
I agreed. It was. It was actually spectacular. Emmett had an amazing ability to be innovative and surprising without ever going too far. Which, all things considered, was almost inconceivable.
I leaned my head on Brian’s shoulder and the minute I did, I felt his touch change. I looked up at him and smiled.
He kissed me, his mouth closed and his lips dry. “You done for the night?”
I sighed. “I’m not, but I am.”
“I was going to go swimming, why don’t you come with me, or go get in the hot tub or something. Relax. I seem to recall your acupuncturist wanted you to relax, have more sex, relax, eat more, have more sex, relax, and let me fuck you in the pool.”
“Okay, some of that sounded familiar. But a few of those things you might have, you know, made up.” I kissed him. He opened his mouth and I kissed him some more, feeling his tongue sliding all over and under mine. I was feeling a little dizzy. If I’d been in the hot tub, I’d have drowned.
He grinned and took me out to the pool, pulling my clothes off and then his. I let him undress me, sighing when he kissed and licked each part he uncovered, and when he knelt down on the pile of our clothes and pressed his face into my stomach and kissed it. I had no idea why things were so good with us. It was like he’d just totally stopped resisting it. And it had only taken six years of misery, suffering, agony, breakups, reunions, and incredibly hot sex. I laughed.
He looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “This is funny?”
I stroked his hair. “How the fuck did we get here?”
He laughed and stood up. “Don’t ask that question, it’s too fucking terrifying to even think about.” He kissed me hard.
“Brian? Did we just talk about our relationship?”
“Fuck. We did.”
I grinned at him.
“I love you. Now, get in the pool and let me fuck your ass.”
I threw my arms around his neck and stood on my toes and kissed him. “I just love it when you’re all romantic.”
He bit me on my neck and picked me up and jumped in the pool with me. I was sputtering and shaking my head when he stood up, still holding onto me. “Asshole. This is your idea of foreplay?”
He laughed. “You love it.”
“So, you want to fuck me in the pool? Any idea what we’re going to do for lube? Because if you think that thing is getting near my ass without lube, you’re out of your mind.”
“I have it all figured out.”
I looked at him skeptically. He didn’t even put me down, just nodded over to the basket next to the lounge chair nearest the pool. He shifted me onto his hip, and I put my legs around his waist and held on, curious. He leaned out and tugged the edge of the basket closer, and pulled a bottle of lube out.
Oil-based lube.
I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, the last taboo.”
“Yeah, well, I did a little research.”
I took the bottle out of his hand and read the ingredients. I was pickier about what went in my ass than what I ate. “You could cook with this. It’s totally natural.”
Brian laughed. “Okay, if you start cooking with our lube, I’m divorcing you.”
“We’re not married.”
“If we were, I’d divorce you for that.”
I opened the lube and smelled it, but it didn’t have an odor. I poured it on my hand and put my finger down to my asshole. Brian obligingly shifted me back in front of him so I had better access. “This feels good. And weird.” A little bit of water went in with my finger. I tried not to think about how much water would go in with Brian’s cock. I got more lube and slicked it on Brian’s cock. “I hope this doesn’t clog the filter.”
“People swim with suntan oil on all the time.”
I had my forehead against his and was angling my ass onto his cock. “Okay, stop talking now.”
His hands gripped my hips and he helped me slide my ass down onto his cock a little. “Okay, stop.” I let myself adjust to him being inside me, and the little rush of cold water lapping at my stretched asshole. “This is weird.”
Brian’s lips were folded in, and he pressed them and then released them. “I thought we weren’t talking. But if we are, ‘this is weird’ falls into the category of mood killer.”
I bounced a little in the water and slid down further on his cock. He gasped and I tightened on him. “Your mood seems fine.”
“We’re still talking.” And he suddenly jerked down hard on my hips, and pushed all the way into me.
The minute I felt him do that, I grabbed onto his neck and wrapped my legs even tighter around him. He was holding me but I weighed almost nothing in the water, and lifting off him was almost effortless. I buried my face in his neck and fucked myself on him, while he kept his hands on my hips and moaned into my ear. “Fuck, Justin, this feels amazing.”
I smiled into his neck, tasting the pool water and his sweat. His hair was wet and strands of it were sticking to my lips. I was trying to breathe but it was hard with his cock going into me so deep, it was pushing the air out of my lungs.
I leaned back, my arms still locked behind Brian’s neck, tipping my head back as far as I could and letting him move me with his hands on my hips, my legs wrapped around him. The water felt even cooler now against the heated skin of my hole, and it even felt cold on my thighs and balls. But Brian’s cock felt hot, and the contrast was amazing. I curved back into him and held on with one arm, and grabbed my cock in my right hand and started jerking myself off.
I had no idea how Brian was still standing up, but he was, even though I could tell he was close to coming. His breath was shallow and loud in my ear, and his grip on me was painfully hard. He was going to leave bruises on my hips. I angled myself a little better and felt a shock in my prostate that echoed out to my balls, and then I felt my come spill out of my cock, scalding hot on my hand in the water. I moaned against Brian’s ear and felt him go suddenly still and then felt his hot come flooding into me, hotter than it had ever felt, from the contrast with the cold water. “Oh fuck, Brian fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
He had his teeth on my shoulder and I felt him clamp down, and the pain of it turned into pleasure before I even realized what he was doing, and flowed down my spine into my balls and pushed the last bit of my orgasm out of me. I was holding onto Brian’s neck and waist and gasping, and he had his arms around me and moved back to the edge of the pool and leaned against it, breathing hard.
“Fuck.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just kissed him.
After a few minutes, he reached down and gently pulled out of me. I felt a twinge of pain and then a little feeling of emptiness, and a little water, too. I laughed, but it sounded almost like a giggle.
“Think we can get out here, or should we use the stairs?”
I looked at the side of the pool. It suddenly seemed daunting. “Stairs.”
Brian laughed and held my hand and waded over to the stairs and pulled me up them. He wrapped me in his arms and kissed me, and then went and got a big towel from the foot of one of the lounge chairs and dried me off. I dried him off and pulled him down on the chair and we kissed for a while.
“Brian?”
He murmured against my hair. “Mmmm?”
"Do you know there are people who think monogamy is boring?"
"I seem to remember thinking that once myself."
"What happened?"
He thought for a minute. “I hadn’t accounted for the erotic potential of FOCUS.” And then he grinned at me and started kissing me again.
Brian’s POV
Something about hanging out with Ted when he wasn’t drinking always made me want to drink more. Which wasn’t a problem for him. He always seemed amused. The problem was, he’d just sit there waiting for me to pass a certain level of drunkenness, and then he’d start with the little comments and insinuations and questions.
Actually, he did that a lot lately even when I wasn’t drinking. Probably not a good idea to hire friends. Or have friends. One day they knew you and you were totally fucked.
I’d had three scotches waiting for dinner and one after, and I was feeling pleasantly buzzed while Ted drank his decaf coffee and we waited for our check. We’d gone to a steak place I knew in Chicago after a day of meetings. I took a sip of my fifth scotch and my cell phone rang. It was lying on the table and I glanced at the caller ID. It was Justin, so I answered.
“So, what are you wearing?” He obviously thought he was being extremely clever.
“Let me have Ted tell you.” I handed my phone to Ted. “It’s Justin, he wants to know what I’m wearing.”
“Hi, Justin. He’s wearing a greenish cotton knit sweater and tan linen slacks.” Ted peered over the table and I obligingly pulled my sweater up. “And a really nice brown leather belt, is that Prada?”
He handed the phone back to me and Justin was laughing. “Asshole.”
I smiled. “Later.”
“Later.” He hung up and I snapped the phone shut. And then faced Ted, who was smirking at me.
“What?”
“I’m just sitting here drinking coffee and having a wonderful time thinking about how totally fucked you are, Brian. In the history of being fucked you’re the most completely fucked guy ever.”
“These are the little moments that make me wonder why I hired you.”
He laughed. “So, seriously. You did it. Monogamy not as monotonous as you thought?”
I contemplated the half-empty glass of scotch and the likelihood that Ted would hold anything I said against me in the future. The certainty, I meant. “So far, I’m wondering how the two words ever came to be related.” The waiter brought our check and left before I could put my card into the folder. I sighed, and finished my drink. Ted was looking at me. “What?”
“Just wondering what it took to get you to think one person was enough for you.”
“Justin’s always been too fucking much, that was the problem.” I thought I was being funny but it came out profound. This is why I hated Ted.
He didn’t laugh, just looked thoughtful.
“Don’t read too much into this, Theodore. I’m shitfaced.”
Back at the hotel, I called Justin. He answered on the third ring. “Hey. Sorry about before.”
I bet. “It’s okay, what are you doing now?”
He sighed. “Working on Rage.”
“If you hate it, why do you do it?”
“I don’t hate it. I like it. I like being the guy who draws Rage, I like the money, I like the comic when it’s done. I just hate doing it when I’d rather be getting my paintings ready. And I hate deadlines.”
“Okay. So, what are you wearing?” I smiled when he laughed. “Why don’t you go to bed, Justin?” And call me when you get there, I thought.
He sighed again. “I can’t. I really have to work now.”
“It’s after 10.”
“Does that work on you?”
“Not usually.”
He was quiet for a second and I almost started to say goodnight. “My neurologist’s office called, they had a cancellation for tomorrow so I’m going in early.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t Emmett coming by tomorrow?” Not that I really cared.
“I called him, it’s fine.”
“You know, Justin, I really hate the phone.”
Justin laughed. “Me too, at least, when I’m talking to you. You suck at it.”
"Remember the other day when you stopped by Kinnetik?"
"Yeah."
"And you interrupted Ted and me while we were working?"
"Ted was showing you something on Uncrate, but okay."
"Whatever. We could have been working."
"Okay, we’ll remember it your way."
"Well, I decided that entitled me to call you up and interrupt you while you’re working and have phone sex."
"That does seem fair."
“Good. Shut down whatever you’re doing, go upstairs, take off all your clothes, and call me back. In ten minutes. Or I’m gonna jerk off without you.”
I heard him laughing. “Really, you make your living in advertising? And that’s your idea of persuasion?”
“You said it seemed fair. I thought that meant I’d already persuaded you.”
“Okay. I’ll call you back in ten minutes. But you’re gonna tell Michael it’s your fault if I miss this deadline.”
“Deal. Later.”
“Later.”
Ted and I had meetings with our client starting early the next day. Blake was flying up to meet Ted and they were staying the weekend. Justin had said he’d call me after his appointment, but he called while my plane was in the air. When I called him back, it rolled to voice mail. His message said everything was fine, but he’d sounded strange.
When I got home, only the automated lights were on. It wasn’t that late, only 9, but Justin’s car was in the garage, so I knew he was there. I checked the hot tub and his studio, and then I went up to the bedroom. He was sound asleep, his hair on the dark pillow, the bedside lamp on its lowest setting. I stood next to him and looked down at his face, and it looked like he’d been crying.
I didn’t know whether to wake him up or let him sleep, but the next moment he opened his eyes. It took a minute for them to focus, but when they did, he smiled. I felt better.
I knelt down next to the bed and touched his hair. “Allergies acting up?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” He didn’t look away from me though.
“You said everything was okay.”
“It is. I’m fine.”
“Then what’s wrong? What did the neurologist say?” We clearly had different definitions of “fine,” since mine didn’t involve tears. I waited for him to say something, and he finally did.
“She said my hand really is better. My grip is stronger, my hand is even bigger because I have increased muscle mass. The nerves are functioning better, and all the subjective and objective measures are either the same or improved. She said the same thing the acupuncturist said, the bluish discoloration and temperature changes are due to increased use of the hand and vascularization of the tissues.”
“That all sounds good.”
He nodded. “It is.”
This was getting us nowhere. I should have fucked him before asking about his day; he liked to talk after we fucked. But right at the moment, I didn’t feel like fucking.
I stood up and got undressed, and got into bed next to him. He scooted over a little and let me under the duvet. I pulled him into my arms. He was wearing his underwear and a t-shirt. And weirdly, socks. “Why are you wearing socks?”
“My feet were cold.”
I pushed his socks off with my feet, and he laughed and pulled off the rest of his clothes. That was better. I kissed his hair. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
He sighed, but he dropped the “everything’s fine” crap. “The doctor really did say my hand was better, and she said there’s nothing to worry about. It’s not that.”
I waited.
“It’s stupid.”
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. What is it?”
“I asked her if she thought the acupuncture had helped, and she wouldn’t say, you know how it is. She can’t say anything about it, it’s not a part of mainstream medical practice, she isn’t an expert in it, that type of thing. Overall, she managed to get across that she thought it probably helped and there was no reason not to keep doing it.”
He stopped talking again. Jesus. “Then what did she say?”
“I asked if she thought there could be further improvement. And she said she’d thought my previous condition was my permanent baseline, so even the improvement I’d had was more than she’d expected. And I knew that. And then she said there was no reason to think there couldn’t be more improvement.” He stopped talking.
“That sounds good.”
“I know. That’s not the problem. I told you, it’s stupid.”
“So, tell me the stupid part.”
“After she said there was no reason to think there couldn’t be more improvement, she said, ‘But of course, your hand will never return to normal function.’ And I knew that, I’ve known that for years now.” He stopped talking, but he didn’t have to say the rest. I got it. I got it with a big fucking kick in the gut. At some point the little twat had started hoping. And I knew better than anyone, hope is a motherfucker.
I thought about what to say. He was just lying there, his head on my chest. At some point I’d started playing with his hair, and I didn’t stop. His body felt relaxed, or maybe just exhausted. “Now you understand the virtue of being a cynical asshole.”
He laughed and sniffled a little. “Does that help?”
I rolled him over and lay on top of him, looking in his eyes and smoothing his hair back from his face. “Not noticeably.” I smiled when I said it.
He looked at me for a few seconds, and closed his eyes. I kissed him. I didn’t know what else to do.
I was kissing his mouth, and then his neck and shoulders, and he turned in my arms and I kissed the back of his neck. He sighed and stretched, and I ran my hands down his side, and he moved his ass back against my groin.
When I went into him, even though he opened up to me, I could feel he was tense and holding back. So I ignored the heat snaking through my cock and balls and the base of my spine, and fucked Justin every way I knew he loved it. I fucked him until that last little bit of hesitation and self-protection disappeared. I felt him arching himself against me, his hand reaching behind him and grabbing the back of my thigh, pulling me in tighter. His head was tucked into his other arm and every time I moved into him he moaned. I could see his cock straining against his stomach, leaking, and I wanted to grab it in my hand, but I didn’t. I just kept fucking him.
His fist was clenching on the pillows and he half-rolled over to his stomach. He was moaning and saying my name, and I wrapped my arm around his chest and slipped my other one underneath him and pulled him as tight against me as I could, and thrust into him, over and over, until I felt him grab my leg and start to come, in long shuddering waves, his ass clenching on my cock. I pulled back and then pushed in again, pressing against the tightness, and then I came too, my face in his hair.
He was still on his side and I was curled around him, my dick still buried in him. I was kissing his neck and shoulders, but softly. I smoothed his hair off his damp forehead. I whispered into his ear. “I love you.”
I could see the side of his face and he smiled and snuggled back a little harder against me. “I love you, too.”
The duvet was piled up behind me on the bed and partly on the floor, so I reached my arm back, tugging it until it was covering us both. I left my arm over Justin, twining my fingers with the fingers of his right hand and just holding on. I didn’t move, but he whispered, “Stay inside me.”
“Okay.” I kissed his ear and lay there holding him, until he fell asleep.
Continued here...