Desires, Part 4
This is the fourth and final chapter of Desires, which is the third in the series that began with Plans and Decisions. Chapter One is here. Chapter Two is here. Chapter Three is here. There is a sequel.
Beta-ing beyond dreams of beta-ness by
gmta_nz.
Commas by
vlredreign. Banner by
roc_abs. Acupuncture by
intensefemme. Desires is dedicated to
vamphile.
Feedback is like water in the desert. Feedback is like batteries for your vibrator. Feedback is like the part in 314 when Justin tells Brian he hasn't lost everything. Are you getting the idea?
Desires, Chapter 4
By Xie
“I know that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire, I'll never go any further than my own back yard. For if it isn't there, I never really lost it.” -Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
Brian’s POV
I woke up to a warm feeling on my neck. It took me a minute to realize it was Justin’s mouth. He was leaning over me, dropping little kisses from my jaw to my throat. I turned from my side onto my back and let him slide on top of me, and wrapped my arms around him. He started kissing my mouth, and I moved my hands up into his hair and kissed him back.
Between kisses, I asked him, “Does this mean you’re done?”
He wriggled his hips a little and I groaned and pressed up against him. “Yeah, it’s all in a nice neat stack to go to Michael tomorrow, and if he wants any changes he can fucking make them himself, I’m finished.”
He kissed me on the mouth again, his hands between us trying to unbutton my jeans. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the television. He must have turned it off before he attacked me.
I kept my hands in his hair and shifted my hips back to give him some room. “We could go upstairs and do this in our bed instead of here.”
“We could do both. I could blow you right here, and then we could go upstairs and I could fuck you.” He slithered off me and knelt next to the sofa, tugging on my jeans, and I laughed and lifted my butt up so he could slide them off. “Or, I could fuck you and then we could go upstairs and I could blow you. Or we could go upstairs and I could fuck you and then blow you. Or…”
He’d started kissing my belly and my cock while he explained our options, all of which, I noticed, had one overriding theme. “Those are my choices?”
Justin didn’t answer, just kept kissing me, still kneeling next to the sofa. His hands were on my hips, and he was gently urging me onto my side, facing him. He moved down my body, sliding his shoulder under my thigh, lifting it up, while his mouth closed on my cock. I let my leg fall over him, my hands on his head, thrusting into his mouth while he slipped one finger in alongside my dick and wet it. Then he looped his arms around my thighs and pulled my cheeks apart with the fingers of one of his hands. He gently worked his wet finger into my ass while he licked and sucked on my cock, letting me rock between his mouth and finger until I was on the edge of coming.
I pulled at his hair and tried to slow him down. He moved his finger back outside me and just played at the opening of my hole, and started licking at the head of my cock. He finally pulled his mouth off, and looked up at me.
I moved my leg off his shoulder and rolled all the way over, and Justin was swarming over my back, his hand reaching out for the sofa table drawer. He sat back for a minute, and I felt his fingers at my ass, cold and wet with lube, and pushed myself up onto my knees.
I laughed a little. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this, after the way you and Michael treated Rage this time.”
I felt his breath and his laugh at my ear. “Michael’s in charge of the plot, don’t take it out on me.” And he slapped at my thigh a little and we stopped talking.
When he slid inside me it burned and hurt and felt good, all at the same time, and I buried my face in my crossed arms and felt him kissing my back and shoulders. He had worked his lubed hand underneath me and was grasping my cock, and I let the motion of him thrusting into me push me into his fist.
Justin was always slow and careful when he started fucking me, but there were times when I could feel him fighting for control. And now and then he lost it, and sometimes I liked feeling him lose it. I tightened my ass on him, and changed the angle of my hips, and he started thrusting into me faster. He moved his hand off my cock and back to my hip, and I bit my lip and tightened on him again, grabbing at his cock with my ass muscles.
He started moaning against my back, my name and sounds that didn’t have any words, and his grip on my hips got even fiercer. I smiled and rocked back just enough to slide my hand down to my own cock, fisting it and smearing my pre-come all over it, jerking myself off roughly while I pulled hard on Justin’s cock with my ass, knowing he was right on the edge of coming, and was trying not to.
The bursts of pleasure inside my ass were melting into one long building wave of heat, spreading into my balls and my cock. I pushed back against him and he pushed into me, and he choked off a cry and pressed his forehead into my back just as I threw my head back and started to come. I felt it in my stomach muscles and my thighs, exploding out from inside me, with Justin’s sweaty chest pressing against me while I felt him shuddering his orgasm into my ass.
I fell down onto the sofa and Justin fell down onto me. I twisted my head around enough so I could see him, his damp hair spread on my back. He lifted his head and smiled softly at me, and I reached back and helped him pull out of me, and then turned onto my side, moving him up between me and the back of the sofa.
We were lying there facing each other, his right arm lying across me. I reached for his hand and rested my palm against his right palm, our fingers lacing together. “How’s your hand?”
He didn’t move it away. “Pretty fucked up.”
I sighed. “Well, at least you’re done.” I worked my other arm out from under us and started to massage his hand. He closed his eyes and after a few minutes, when I was working the big muscle at the base of his thumb, he made a sound like he was purring.
That made me laugh. “You’re easy tonight.”
He poked at me with his foot. “Look who’s talking.”
I smiled and rubbed his hand for a while more, and then put it down and kissed his hair.
“We should go to bed.” I had no idea what time it was. I felt him nod against me, but he didn’t move, so I got up and pulled him off the sofa and upstairs. We were both covered with dried come and sweat, so I started the shower, and when the water was hot he climbed in with me, and stood inside my arms while I washed him and shampooed his hair. His eyes were closed and he was leaning on me, and after all the soap and shampoo were rinsed away from us both, I just stood there, holding him, while the hot water coursed down over us.
His forehead was on my chest, and I had my arms around his shoulders, my head resting on his. He yawned a little. “I’m going to sleep until noon tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to bring the drawings to Michael?”
He pulled his head back and gave me a sleepy version of his best smile, and went up on his toes and kissed me. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”
“Courier service?”
“And sex. And coffee. And hand massages.”
The water started to cool, so I turned off the shower. I dried us both with the same big towel, and Justin opened his eyes long enough to get into bed and curl into my arms. I smoothed his damp hair back from his face and he mumbled a little and kissed my chest, and I felt him fall asleep.
I was surprised when the alarm went off in the morning, to wake up with him still lying on me. Neither of us had moved in the night.
Justin’s POV
When I went downstairs the next day, the pile of the final Rage drawings was gone from my worktable. I’d thought I might take the day off from working, but my hand felt fine and just knowing the comic was done had given me a huge rush of energy. I ate breakfast and carried my coffee into the studio, and dropped my iPod into its dock. I turned on the latest DJ stream Alfe had emailed me, and stood in front of my easel, staring at the blank fiberglass panel.
I carried it over to my worktable, and got out my paints and brushes and the computer-generated designs I was working from, and started painting. I was careful not to overdo it, because I had to lay the wire in the paint lines before they dried, and I needed a certain amount of control to do it. So I monitored my hand carefully, and stopped and rested it as much as I could, and even drank some of my acupuncturist’s tea. I’d gotten used to the taste of it, although I didn’t like it anymore than I ever had. I’d have loved to have someone convince me it wasn’t doing any good, but I wasn’t sure what was actually helping my hand, so I was afraid to stop anything she had me doing.
I was standing there flexing my hand backwards when my cell phone rang from its charger by my computer. It was Daphne. I almost let it roll to voice mail, but I decided I’d stalled long enough. Besides, I needed to take a break and let my hand rest. I turned off the music and answered.
“Hey.”
I heard her sigh. “Hey. I thought you were never going to speak to me again.”
“I was trying to finish Rage, I just finished it last night.” I sat down at my computer and booted it up.
“Are you pissed at me?” If there’d ever been a time in our relationship when Daphne and I beat around the bush, it was so long ago I couldn’t remember.
“I kind of am.”
She didn’t say anything right away. “Because I talked to Brian?”
I shrugged, then realized that was a brilliant strategy over the phone. “Yeah.”
“Justin…. Can I come over? Or are you painting?”
I made up my mind. “My hand’s for shit, I can’t paint anymore for a while, come over.”
She sounded relieved. “Should I bring food?”
“Daph.”
“Duh. Sorry. I’ll bring food.” She hung up.
Brian’s POV
When I got home from work that night, Daphne’s car was in the driveway. I walked in through the kitchen, and saw signs that my stash of pot had been seriously diminished: Two empty microwave popcorn bags, a bowl of what looked like brownie batter in the sink, eggshells sitting on top of the garbage disposal drain, and half a dozen empty beer bottles.
If orange was the new blue, I guessed Justin and Daphne were the new Brian and Michael.
I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. I put the eggshells down the disposal, loaded the dishwasher, put the empty bottles in the recycling bin, and wiped down the counters. Then I went upstairs, changed into my sweats, and went to the workout room.
When I was done, I went out to swim, and that’s when I found them, sitting on the edge of the pool near the steps, heads close together. Giggling. They both looked up when I walked out, and Justin’s face lit up. I loved him when he was stoned. He was even more transparent than usual.
I decided nothing too dramatic was going on if he looked that happy to see me, although Daphne was less than her usual exuberant self. I made an effort to be even more charming than I normally was.
I dropped my pants and dove in the pool naked.
When I came up for air on the other side of the pool, Justin was lying flat on his back laughing while Daphne hit him repeatedly with a little lounge pillow. I shook the water out of my hair and swam over to them innocently.
“Care to share the joke?”
Justin was laughing so hard he couldn’t answer, and Daphne was refusing to look in my direction. I laughed at them and started swimming laps. By the time I was done, they’d calmed down, and Daphne only snuck one quick look when I got out of the pool. I wrapped a towel around my hips and sat with them, taking Justin’s beer away from him and finishing it. They’d made burgers on the grill and I picked at their leftovers. I even ate a brownie when they weren’t watching.
After a while, Justin had his head in my lap and I was playing with his hair and not really listening. They’d been talking in that rambling way that seems so profound and funny when you’re stoned, and so incoherent when you aren’t, so I’d just tuned them out.
I noticed at some point they’d stopped talking. I tried to decide if it was a comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but Justin was dreamily playing with my fingers and Daphne was apparently fascinated with her toes in the underwater light of the pool water, so I relaxed.
“I think Justin’s half-asleep, Daphne, and no offense, but you’re either staying in our guest room or letting me call the car service. Pick one.”
She protested, but I ignored her, and she ended up tucked into bed on the other side of the house.
After we went to our room, Justin showed me yet again that pot made him both horny and affectionate. He was lying on his stomach and I was lying half on him, one leg thrown over his thighs and my head on his outstretched arm. He was still making occasional contented noises in his throat while I made little circles on his back with my fingertips.
“So, everything okay with you and Daphne?”
He sighed and wriggled his hips and I flattened my hand at the base of his spine. “Yeah, we talked. I was kind of mad that she asked you to let her interview you, but that’s really between you and her.”
I ignored that. “Are you going to talk to her for her thesis?”
Justin didn’t answer right away, which told me what he was going to say. When he answered, his voice was soft. “Yeah, I am. Does that bother you?”
I shrugged. “That’s between you and her.”
Justin turned over and gave me a look. “Brian.”
“You should do what you want to do.” I was up on my elbow, looking at him.
Justin had a very annoying patient look on his face. “Okay.” He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. Then he turned on his side and closed his eyes, tugging on my arm so I was pressed against his back. I resisted for a second, but let myself curve around him and fall asleep.
Justin’s POV
I woke up late the next day, and Daphne was already gone. She’d left a note stuck to my monitor, saying she’d call later. I checked my email and saw one from Michael with the subject line, “CALL ME,” and “right away” inside.
I called the store and he picked up on the first ring. “Justin?”
“What’s up?”
“The printer sent over the two covers for us to decide on, and they need our decision by 5. Can you come by the store and look at these?”
Fuck. “I really can’t, Michael. I have a deadline, and I’ve already put too much work off for the comic.”
“Do you want me to decide?” Michael’s voice sounded doubtful, since the two of us had never agreed on a single Rage cover before. I’d won each battle so far, and contemplated giving in on this one, but I really hated the cover I knew he’d pick, even though I’d drawn it.
“Can’t you come out here?”
I could almost hear Michael frown through the phone, but after a pause he said he’d call Ben and see if he’d watch the store and let Michael use the car.
When he got there a couple of hours later, I was starting to think it was time for a break anyway. I washed my hands and brushes, blessing the inventor of acrylic paint, and Michael set the two covers side by side on the table.
We stood next to each other looking at them. One of them was Rage, standing on a very urban looking cement wall, tagged with graffiti and partially crumbling. To his right and slightly behind him was JT, and to his left in the exact same position was Zephyr. Below them, in a half-circle, were Ice Tina, the Governor, and Reverend Swineheart, and behind them were the bashers from the first issue, and behind them, a seemingly unending army of zombies.
The other one was the same basic setting, but Rage and JT were in the center, with Zephyr to the far right, somewhat in the background, turned in profile while he fought off four zombies who were attempting to climb the wall.
JT was in front of Rage, but Rage’s right arm was wrapped all the way around him, pulling him in tight. There was a strange shimmery effect around them, indicating Rage was using his powers of mind control to protect them. JT’s eyes were closed in concentration, and his arms were bent up so his hands rested on Rage’s arm. In this issue, he’d learned how to feed energy to Rage to support his powers, but he could only do it if they were actually touching.
“I know you want this one.” Michael was pointing at the one where he was kicking zombie ass.
I nodded. “All the covers have been Rage and JT. It’s tradition. It’s canonical.” Michael started to object, and I cut him off. “And Zephyr’s ass looks really great in this one, too.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Justin, do you honestly believe I’ll fall for that?”
I shrugged. “It does, though.” But I was smiling.
“The other one is more heroic looking.”
“It’s more conventional looking. This isn’t a conventional comic.”
We argued for a while, and then I won, and then Michael sighed, and we emailed the printer.
I asked if he wanted to see the tennis court that was now a dance floor, and we walked down to the outdoor Babylon Brian and Emmett were having constructed where suburban heterosexuals had once played mixed doubles. The contractors had filled in the holes left by the now-removed fence and poles, painted it all black, and built a stage at one end to house the DJ setup. Alfe was bringing his own equipment and crew. I resolutely refused to even imagine what this was costing. Two electricians were messing with the wiring, and they nodded to us as we stood there.
“Brian’s fucking insane, isn’t he?” Michael looked more impressed than disapproving when he said that, though.
“Yeah. Basically.” I probably did too.
Michael glanced over at me as we went back, using the new, meandering, and extremely picturesque path Emmett had had constructed to replace the utilitarian cement one that used to run from the pool to the tennis court. “How’s your hand?”
“If I take it easy, it’s good. I can draw for a lot longer now, sometimes a couple of hours if I pace myself. Has Brian been grilling you?”
He laughed a little. “Sort of, but also, I’ve just been paying more attention to it since he chewed me out that night.”
“Chewed you out?”
“It was just one night we were working and your hand was cramping, I guess I was supposed to use my powers of mind control to stop you.” Michael was grinning at me.
“Sorry. Sounds like JT will have to have a little chat with our hero.”
“Don’t bother, it was a while ago. It just made me notice more.”
“It’s a lot better than it used to be.”
Michael nodded. “That’s good. So, I should get back to the store before Ben convinces all my customers that they should be reading actual books instead of comics.”
“I thought he said Rage was a post-modern masterpiece?”
“I’ll tell you a little secret: I think he was lying when he said that.”
I burst out laughing.
After Michael left, I went back to work, adding lines of color and laying a few sections of wire. I carefully checked my control before each one, because I didn’t have a lot of room for mistakes; acrylic dries almost instantly. Leave it to me to think of something requiring even more fine motor control than sketching. My next painting was going to be something big and abstract, involving oil paints and canvas, and definitely not involving laying tiny little filaments of wire into wet lines of fast-drying paint.
I finally finished the last one, and smiled. Brian had promised to help me hang them that night, so I left the last one to dry and went upstairs, stripped off my paint-spattered clothes, and took a shower.
When I got back downstairs, Brian was eating Chinese food in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.
I looked at him for a minute. “You know, we have a kitchen table, a dining room table, a picnic table, and any number of sofas and chairs. And yet most of our meals are eaten standing up or on the floor. Why is that?”
He swallowed and stuck his chopsticks in the container and grabbed some chicken. “We’re guys. That’s what guys do.”
“Don’t you think Ted and Blake eat at the table? I know Ben and Michael do.”
“I wake up every day and ask myself what Ted would do, and then I do the opposite.”
I shook my head, grabbed a fork, and stood next to Brian, stealing his Chinese food. After we ate, Brian went upstairs and changed, and then came down to the studio. He helped me hang my paintings, and then climbed up on a ladder and redirected the lights the way I wanted them, so I could show them to Kalli when she got here.
I was standing there chewing my lip and thinking about having him move one of the paintings just a little to the left when he walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.
“We’re not moving them again.”
“I think the upper right hand one needs to go a little to the left.”
“It’s perfect.” He kissed my hair. “You’re just being neurotic.”
“This from the man who wants all the mug handles to face the same way in the cupboard. I won’t even mention the apples.”
“All the more reason you should believe me.” He had moved an arm over my shoulder, and I rested my hands on it.
“I just want to be sure it’s right.”
Brian didn’t say anything, just stood there with me. I looked at the paintings, at the way the four pieces flowed together, like a series of very minor changes in perspective on the same object. The convergence of the grid pattern was just off enough to make it hard for the eye to resolve each field, and the colors were at the same time very pretty and light, and completely dissonant with the graphical quality of the paintings. I was glad Brian wanted to buy them for Kinnetik, because I thought all four needed to be hung together to really work.
I wasn’t really worried about what Kalli would think. When I’d done them, I had the sense I always got when something I’d visualized in my mind was taking shape just the way it was meant to, a sort of rush of certainty. Even when my hand wasn’t cooperating with my brain, I still knew.
I’d once told Brian that the feeling I got when I was drawing was like sex, when I was trying to explain how it felt when my hand was fucked up and I had to stop in the middle of something. But that wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t just like sex, it was like sex with Brian. I wondered what he’d say now, if I told him that.
“Where’d you go?” Brian was still standing there behind me, his arm around me, his chin on my head.
I squeezed his arm with my hands and let them drop, and turned around and hugged him. “You’re right, it’s perfect.” And then we went to bed.
Brian’s POV
I contemplated the clock on the bedside table. It was 6:45 in the morning. Justin was sleeping next to me, apparently oblivious to the sound of the alarm.
I put on a pair of jeans and went downstairs and started the coffee. After careful consideration, I decided it wasn’t too lesbianic to bring some up to Justin before the caterers took over the kitchen.
I sat down on the bed next to him and held the coffee near his face. He opened his eyes. “You brought me coffee. In bed. Who are you and what have you done with Brian?”
“I’m just trying to get you out of bed before the house is overrun with Emmett’s catering crew.”
He sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair, and took the cup and drank some. He turned, set it down on the bedside table, and lay down again, his eyes closed. “Tell me again why I have to get up?”
I resolutely pulled the duvet off him. “Caterers.”
He grabbed at it and pulled it back over himself. “Tell me again why we’re having a party?”
I thought about it. “Fourth of July.”
“Because you’re so patriotic.” He had his eyes tightly closed and the duvet pulled up to his chin.
I rubbed between my eyes. “Okay, I think we’re out of the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ zone on the party.”
“It seemed like a good idea when you first thought of it.”
I nodded. “So, I was thinking.”
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking we have an hour before the caterers come and that’s enough time for me to blow you.” And then he opened his eyes and gave me a grin. Caffeine really was my favorite drug.
After we showered, Justin was standing at the closet staring at his clothes. He glanced at me when I stood next to him. “What are you wearing tonight?”
I gestured to the bed, where I’d thrown the jeans and shirt I planned on wearing. He looked at them, then back at the closet, biting his lip. I put my hand on the back of his neck.
“What’s the problem?”
“I suddenly realized I was going to wear a red shirt and blue jeans and I thought that was too thematic.”
“You look hot in red.”
Justin lifted his hand, which had a red t-shirt in it. I took it from him and held it up. I had fond memories of Justin in that t-shirt. And out of that t-shirt. And getting him out of that t-shirt.
“You should wear that.” I sounded decisive.
He nodded. “Pants.”
I folded my lips inward as I considered and ruled out most of Justin’s pants. I pulled his black jeans off the hanger and handed them to him.
Justin looked unconvinced. “It’s summer.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can stand there and stare, and hope that the power of your will makes a pair of white linen pants appear on your side of the closet. Or wear these.”
I left Justin to ponder the deficiencies in his wardrobe and went downstairs to see if Emmett had gotten there yet. He had, and was standing in the middle of the kitchen directing his crew to put things everywhere. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get in my car and go to the loft and come back when the guests arrived. It actually seemed like a great idea, and I was about to go upstairs and see if Justin wanted to come when Emmett spotted me.
“Good. Brian. Where is the state-of-the-art food processor station you told me you had? I’ve looked everywhere, and by the way, I didn’t see any food at all, but if there’s ever a nationwide shortage of lube, I know where to come: Your kitchen.”
I put my tongue in my cheek. “You never know when something will come up that requires lubrication.”
Emmett looked into my eyes and nodded. “I understand perfectly. It’s good to be prepared. Speaking of preparation, the food processor?”
I went over to the wall, pressed on it, and it popped open, revealing a built-in food processing center.
“That’s amazing. I have just one more question.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Emmett held up one of Justin’s zip lock baggies of Chinese herbal tea. “Why do you have bags of mulch in your kitchen?”
I was definitely going to the loft.
The doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but stopped in the doorway on the way out. “Emmett, if you have a minute, Justin’s having a fashion crisis upstairs. Go tell him to wear the black jeans and get his ass down here? I think this is Kalli.”
Emmett was halfway up the stairs as soon as he heard the words “fashion” and “crisis” in the same sentence, and I went to the door and let Kalli in. She looked decidedly un-summery, in a black sleeveless blouse, an ankle-length black linen skirt, and black high-heeled sandals. I loved this girl.
Kalli’s face broke out in a big smile when I opened the door. “Brian, may I have you make all my travel arrangements from now on? The driver was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, other than, of course, you. He, however, is both single and heterosexual. And he tells me that you have invited him to your party. I’m thinking I might have to put you in my will.”
I laughed and took her black leather overnight bag off her shoulder. “Ah yes, the wonder that is Evan. Just promise to tell me all the details, and I’ll make sure he drives you back on Sunday night, too.”
I took her upstairs and she flopped down on the bed. “This is like a five star hotel. Which is,” she said, looking at me upside down in a very Justin-like way, “where I normally stay when I travel.”
“Of course.” I was guessing, more like lots of friends’ sofas, despite the patina of New York chic she wore. I remembered her Alphabet City workspace.
We went downstairs. “I’d show you the studio but Justin would kill me, and he’s locked in our room trying to figure out what to wear to the party, even though he professed total indifference to the question until today.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s Justin. He likes to look pretty but not if he has to do anything like shop or make a decision. It’s good a thing he’s naturally beautiful.”
“Fashion crisis solved.” It was Emmett coming down the stairs, looking pleased. “And you’ll be happy to know, Brian, we decided you were right about the black jeans.”
“Of course I was right. I always know what to put on Justin’s ass.”
“Okay, I’m going to resist the obvious response to that since there’s a lady present.” And he gave Kalli a big hug.
We were sitting out by the pool, Kalli deeply in the shade, when Justin found us. He was wearing thin sweatpants and his most paint-splotched t-shirt, which somewhat disturbingly made him look incredibly hot. He dragged Kalli off to the studio almost before he said hello, and Emmett left to check on his crew.
Kalli loved Justin’s new paintings, and tried that afternoon to convince me not to buy them. Emmett had glared at us when we tried to get into the kitchen, and finally brought us out some food, which since I’d paid for all of it, seemed only fair. He sat down with us, but every few minutes someone would come and ask him to make a decision, and eventually he didn’t come back.
Later that afternoon, I was trying to read my email. Justin and Kalli were in his studio, and his techno music was thumping in competition with the sound check going on down at the tennis court. I knew I should have gone to the loft. I wondered if it was really too late, when Justin stuck his head in. “I’m going up to get dressed, it’s after 6.”
The party didn’t start until 8, so I just nodded and told him I’d be up later. I replied to a few last minute emails from people who couldn’t follow the directions or use the map we’d sent with the invitations, and then went outside. Alfe and his assistant were deep in conversation with the electrician from Babylon, and everything looked perfect. Maybe Emmett really was worth the small fortune he was charging me. The buffet table was set up on the shady side of the patio, and it was a sleek line of chrome without a single linen tablecloth or flower in sight. And not one flag or hint of red, white, and blue.
Justin’s POV
Kalli was getting ready, which I knew from experience took her the better part of forever, but I’d decided to go ahead and get ready, too. I was standing in front of the mirror in the black jeans Brian had bought for me in New York, and my favorite red t-shirt. The shirt was made of some incredibly soft, light knit, and while it looked like any old red t-shirt, it wasn’t. It fit me perfectly, and felt soft on my skin. I let my hand slip under the bottom of the shirt and graze my stomach.
I heard the door open and turned around and caught Brian looking at me. His face had a sort of stunned look on it, but he didn’t say anything.
I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “What do you think?”
Brian’s lip twitched, and he looked directly into my eyes. He walked over and sat on the bed, and unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. “I told you to wear that.”
“I figure any fashion advice you and Emmett agree on must be right.” I was still idly touching my stomach, and his eyes were still following my hand. I walked close to him and stood between his legs. He was leaning back on his hands, still with that little smile on his lips.
Brian shifted forward. He pushed my t-shirt up and surprised me by just resting his face against my stomach for a minute. His hands were on my hips and his forehead was pressed against me, and then after a minute I felt his lips moving on my skin, and I shivered. He opened my jeans and started nuzzling my cock, licking at the head and sliding his hands up under my shirt and playing with my nipples.
I laughed a little when his mouth closed on my cock, but a few minutes later my knees were sagging against the bed, Brian’s hands were gripping the backs of my thighs, and my cock was buried deep in his throat while he licked and sucked my orgasm out of me. I literally fell against him after I came, and he let me slide down, his mouth finding mine.
He was leaning forward, pressing his forehead against me, his hands in my hair. I was still breathless.
“The best things happen when I let you pick out my clothes.”
He slid his hands down the side of my face and grinned at me. “You look hot in that.”
I laughed shakily. “Yeah, I kind of figured you thought so.”
I curled up between his legs and he rested his hands on my head while I licked his cock. He groaned when I locked my lips around the head and closed my fist on his shaft. I sucked and jerked him until he lifted his hips off the bed and grabbed handfuls of my hair and pulled, and then I felt him hit the back of my throat. I relaxed and then swallowed, and felt him flood into me, and I kept swallowing until he let his hips drop down. He was panting and laughing, and I kissed him, feeling his tongue inside my mouth, tasting himself.
Good thing I’d come up early.
Brian pulled on a sleeveless dark olive t-shirt and jeans, and we went downstairs. The first guests to get there were Debbie and Carl. Debbie had brought food, but Emmett, who, after all, lived with Debbie, was prepared for that, and accepted it graciously. Brian and I were sitting with them by the pool when my mom got there with Tucker, and then Daphne showed up at the same time Mel and Lindz did.
Lindsay bent down to kiss Deb, who gave her a big smack on her cheek. “Where’s Gus and my granddaughter?”
Mel snorted, and Lindsay frowned at her. “Eli and Monty have them, seeing as how Brian didn’t invite them.”
I left Brian to enjoy a rare bonding moment with Melanie, and went looking for Daphne. She was sitting on the diving board, talking to my mom, who was at a table next to it. Tucker was nowhere to be seen, but he came back with drinks for everyone after a few minutes.
“Gorgeous place,” he said politely. Tucker and I had officially buried the hatchet, but we still weren’t what you’d call friends.
“It’s a fucking palace.” Debbie sat down at the table next to my mom, who smiled.
“Every mother’s dream.”
Debbie laughed. “I never thought I’d hear anyone, certainly not you, describe Brian Kinney as a mother’s dream. At least, not that kind of dream.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, I’m sitting right here. And you’re talking about the man I unconventionally cohabitate with.”
Daphne looked at me skeptically. “Would you point out the unconventional part, Justin?”
Debbie laughed again. “It’s the part where if he doesn’t say that, Brian glares at him.”
“Doesn’t say what?” Brian had come up behind me. “Tucker. Good to see you.”
Brian dropped a kiss on Daphne’s cheek, then my mom’s, and then Debbie’s, who slapped gently at his. “We’re just teasing Justin.”
He slid into the chair next to mine, and smiled at me. “Justin’s easy that way.”
I blushed, and everyone laughed.
The dancing wasn’t supposed to start until after 9, and we were having fireworks at midnight, but there was music and an open bar, as well as steak and lobster and six kinds of chocolate cake, including one Emmett swore had almost no fat at all. I took my plate over to where Mel and Lindz were sitting with Ben, at a candle-lit table under a tree full of tiny lights.
“Well, Brian must be happy.” Melanie was pulling lobster out of a tail with a lobster fork. “Emmett must be happy. And rich. I’ve never seen lobster at a backyard barbecue before.”
Ben laughed. “I somehow doubt Brian would describe this as a backyard barbecue.” He turned to me. “Michael says you’re working on the pieces for the show in December. How’s it going?”
We sat there talking about art, and then a little later I went looking for Kalli, but she was engrossed in conversation with some of the people from the art department at Kinnetik. I was getting restless for the dancing to start.
Daphne was still sitting with my mom, and I wondered if she was trying to get her to talk to her for her thesis. For some reason the thought made me uncomfortable. Sometimes letting other people do what they wanted to do was for shit. I had to remember to tell Brian that.
“Justin.” It was Brian’s voice, and I turned my head towards it and saw him standing in a small group with Cynthia and some clients, including Richard Bohling from New York. I walked over to join them, and Brian slid his arm around my waist. He seemed a little bit drunk, but not much. “Richard, you remember Justin?”
“Of course I do, how are you, Justin?”
Brian introduced me to his other clients, and I smiled politely while they made small talk for a while. Brian had his hand inside the back of my shirt the whole time, just resting on my bare skin.
I pulled Brian down to his outdoor Babylon the minute the dancing started. Emmett had kept it simple, just flickering lights in the trees along the path, and mostly darkness around the dance floor. They had set up a second bar, and tables. The DJ stage was edged in lights, giving it a weird upwards glow, and there were dim lights marking the edges of the old tennis court. It actually was amazingly club-like, given it was in the middle of our lawn. Although if Emmett and Brian between them couldn’t re-create Babylon anywhere, no one could.
Brian’s POV
It was dark and warm, and I was dancing with Justin. Only the awareness that his mother was dancing a few feet away from us with her much younger boyfriend kept my hands above Justin’s waist and mostly on the outside of his shirt.
Mostly.
Justin was kissing me when I realized he was high. I pulled away and looked into his eyes.
“Where’d you get the E?”
He laughed and blushed a little. “Out of that box in the bedroom.”
“You’re stealing my drugs?” I nuzzled his hair and he went back to kissing my neck.
“It’s in our prenuptial agreement. Your drugs are my drugs.”
“Ah.” His tongue on my throat was very distracting.
“Don’t worry, I only took a half.”
“I’m not worried. But remind me not to invite your mother out dancing with us again. It inhibits me.” Justin had his hands on my shoulders and mine were on his waist, and I’d bent my knees a little so I could say it against his ear.
He laughed, and went up on his toes to put his mouth close to my ear. “Remind me to remind you not to bring up my mother while you have your hands inside my shirt.”
After a while, Justin danced off with Kalli and Daphne, and I got a drink at the bar and stood next to the DJ stage. I was looking at the crowded dance floor when Alfe stepped down next to me.
“Who’s the little sister in the orange shirt?”
“Justin’s best friend since grade school.”
“His hag.”
I shrugged.
Alfe continued to look consideringly at Daphne. She had gone on her toes and put her hands on Justin’s shoulders and was saying something into his ear. “Is she straight?”
I took a swallow from my glass. “She is.”
“Any problem if I ask her to dance?”
“She’ll let you know if there is.”
“Justin won’t challenge me to a duel or ask my intentions?”
I laughed. “It’s Daphne you have to worry about. She’s small but deadly.”
Alfe grinned and asked his assistant, a tank-topped, tattooed blonde in a bandanna, to take over DJ duties for a while. She nodded, never taking her eyes off the sound system. Alfe headed out onto the dance floor and greeted Justin casually, resting a hand on his shoulder while being introduced to Daphne and Kalli.
I watched in admiration as Alfe gradually danced Daphne away from the group, and no one even noticed. Including Daphne, who was chattering happily with him while they danced.
“Enjoying the show?” It was Ted, a glass of something red-tinged and sparkly in his hand. I knocked back the last of my drink and shrugged.
Ted looked out at the dancers. “Alfe’s got his moves down.”
I wasn’t sure if Ted was referring to Alfe’s dancing or the fact that he was leaning down close to Daphne’s face, laughing at whatever she was saying to him.
I walked with him back over to the bar. “If anyone can take care of herself, it’s Daphne. She’s second only to Justin in determination and deviousness, and I’m not sure she’s actually second to him. I think it’s entirely possible she taught him everything he knows.”
Ted laughed. “I’d say those particular moves are somewhat familiar. Almost, dare I say it, Kinney-esque?”
“Hey.” It was Blake. He slipped his arm around Ted’s waist and kissed him. We went and sat down with Michael and Ben. Melanie and Lindsay were out on the dance floor, and I realized from the way Lindsay was writhing against Mel where the other half of Justin’s E had gone. Some things never change.
A little later, I was dancing with Michael when I felt someone bump into me from behind. It was a very flushed Justin, his hair falling in his eyes and a big smile on his face. I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into my chest, smiling back at him. He tipped his head back and I leaned down and kissed him. His lips were still a little swollen from earlier, and I nibbled at the bottom one before we broke apart.
Justin giggled, and I looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Look at Daphne and Emmett. She comes up to his waist.” I kissed the top of his head and didn’t make any jokes about height. The minute Justin’s mommy had gone home, I’d followed his example and did half a hit of E myself. And then I let him make me drink water, which amused him endlessly.
“Let’s dance some more.” I shook my head, and Justin laughed and went out and danced with Emmett and Daphne instead. I walked over to where Michael and Ted were sitting with Ben and Blake, and dropped down into an empty chair.
Emmett had abandoned Daphne to Justin, and came and flopped down in the seat next to me, dropping his head dramatically onto his arms on the table. “I have to be back here at six with the clean-up crew. Just wake me up when they get here.”
He lifted his head, and followed my eyes to Justin and Daphne. “I remember when we had that much energy.”
“Speak for yourself.” I gestured to the waiter for another scotch.
Ted laughed. “Still forever young, Brian?”
“I have enough energy to stay up past midnight dancing on a Saturday night.”
“And keep up with your horny 23-year-old?”
The waiter came back with my drink. I just smiled.
Emmett was watching us. “Who’d ever have thought that night Justin was standing under that streetlight outside Babylon, that we’d be sitting here all these years later, and the two of you would be together?”
“Justin.” Everyone turned and looked at Michael. “Justin thought it.”
I laughed.
One of Emmett’s minions came up and told him the fireworks were ready to start. I finished my drink and snagged Justin from Daphne on the way to the edge of the dance floor to watch. I was standing there with my arm around him when I suddenly had the unfamiliar thought that I was happy. Maybe it was the Ecstasy, or the fireworks, or having Babylon literally in my own backyard for the night. I pulled Justin up tight against my hip, leaning my upper body away a little. We both laughed when his feet lifted off the ground. I swung him around a little ways, and then set him down, and he turned into me, smiling. I kissed him.
He turned back around and we stood watching the fireworks. I’d had to pay someone from the fire department to observe the pyrotechnics experts, and the display was one of the things I’d used to bribe our few neighbors into overlooking the late night music. Justin had his head resting against my chest and his hands on my arms, and I felt his hair brushing against my face.
“Justin.” I said it just as there was a particularly big explosion of lights, and I wasn’t sure he heard me. But his hands squeezed on my arms, and he turned his head back towards me. I tilted my face down and kissed him, my tongue going back to trace his lower lip, and then play with his inside his mouth. The night was warm and Justin was warm, and his mouth was hot.
He turned all the way around, and put his arms around my neck and stood on his toes. Red lights showered down behind him, and he kissed me and whispered into my ear, “I love you, Brian. It’s a beautiful night. It’s perfect.”
I didn’t say anything, just smiled and kissed him again.
The fireworks finally ended, and people drifted back to the dance floor and the bar, or towards their cars. I’d promised the neighbors we’d turn off the music at 1, and a lot of the guests were going to Babylon. Alfe was already ramping down the beats per minute, and Emmett’s crew was breaking down the buffet table.
“Goodnight, Brian.” Lindsay kissed my cheek, and I gave her a hug. Melanie was standing next to her, thanking Justin for a great time, and he went off to walk them to their car. Emmett came up to me, frowning. “Brian, have you seen Daphne? I saw her run past me during the fireworks, but I couldn’t get away, and now I can’t find her. Her car’s still out there. She looked kind of upset.”
I sighed, but followed Emmett back to the pool. “Justin’s walking Lindsay and Mel to their car, see if you can find him, and I’ll check the house.”
Daphne wasn’t anywhere, but eventually I tried down behind the garage where Michael and I always went to get high. At first I thought she wasn’t there either, but then I saw her sitting on the ground, her back against the garage wall. Emmett was right. She’d been crying.
I went and slid down the wall next to her. “Hey.”
She sniffled, and I slid my arm along her shoulder. She didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and I sighed in frustration. Women. Tears. I needed a drink. And where the fuck was Justin? This was definitely his responsibility.
I sat there for a while without saying anything, and finally Daphne sniffled again. “I was watching the fireworks. And you and Justin looked so happy.”
“Yeah, that is bad.” I decided to try humoring her until Justin got there.
She gave a weepy little laugh. “Do you ever take anything seriously, Brian?”
I pulled away and turned and looked down at her. She was drunk, but not as drunk as I thought at first. Her hair was in ringlets on the top of her head, and her eyeliner was smeared, and even though she’d laughed, she looked upset.
I spoke carefully, not really sure what she was asking. “What the fuck’s wrong, Daphne? Give me a hint.”
“Are you still pissed I asked to interview you?”
So that’s what we were talking about. “I was never pissed. You asked. I answered. It’s over.”
She frowned at me. “It’s that simple?”
I shrugged. “It is for me.”
“Justin said you wouldn’t want to talk about it to me. How come?”
I felt tension in my jaw, and waited until it lessened to answer her. “I don’t have anything to say that you don’t already know.”
I rested my head against the garage wall, and kept my arm around her shoulders. She didn’t say anything for a long time, and I started thinking maybe we should head back to the party.
“Brian?”
I sighed. “Hmmm?”
“This isn’t for my thesis, I just want to know. Do you ever still think about it?”
“Of course I do.”
She put her head back against the wall and looked up. “Me, too.”
I looked down at her, and I could see that she was crying. I folded my lips in, and tightened my arm on her, but I didn’t know what to say. A shadow moved across the path and I looked up and saw Justin, standing over us. I wondered how long he’d been there.
“Hey.”
He hesitated, and then came and slid down the wall next to me. “What’s going on? Emmett said Daphne was upset over something, and I’ve been looking for you guys for half an hour.”
I put my other arm over Justin’s shoulder and rested my head on his. “Daphne’s a little drunk and seems to think I’m mad at her. We’re just clearing that up.”
Justin looked at Daphne across me, and bit his lip. “Daph?”
“I’m okay, Brian says he’s not pissed.”
“I told you he wasn’t.”
She just nodded. Justin stretched his hand across my lap and she grabbed it, and I sat there with my arms around the two of them, my head leaning against the wall.
Justin’s POV
By the time we came out, the party was pretty much over. There was a cleanup crew coming in the morning, so Emmett was catching a few hours of sleep upstairs. Kalli had gone to Babylon with Evan and some of the artists from Kinnetik.
I got Daphne settled in one of the guest rooms, and came into the bedroom. Brian was already in bed. I stripped off my clothes and climbed in next to him. He pulled me backwards against him, and rolled me over gently, kissing the back of my neck.
I felt tired, even exhausted. All I wanted was to close my eyes and go to sleep, but the minute I felt Brian’s breath on my neck, my nerve endings began to tingle and I woke up a little. There was something about the way he was touching me, something gentle but urgent at the same time, that made me wake up even more.
Brian’s hands were stroking my sides and I felt him sliding down my body. He was kissing my back and his hands were pressing my thighs open, and then he buried his face in the crack of my ass, his tongue flat and wet and hot as he dragged it across my asshole, and the minute his tongue touched it, he moaned.
I rose up a little on my knees, I couldn’t help it, but he pressed me back into the mattress, pushing my thighs apart with his elbows and pulling my cheeks open with his hands. He was flicking his tongue lightly over my opening, and then running it firmly up and down my crack, pressing his face into me hard. I could feel his breath, his stubble, the softness of his lips, all rubbing against me. I was wet from his spit, and then I felt his thumb slide down and press against the smooth spot behind my balls while he made his tongue pointed and jabbed it inside me.
I tried to lift up again, but he put his free hand on my hip and pressed, and then I felt him make his tongue flat and swipe it firmly over my hole, back and forth, and then he started swirling it just outside my opening, and pressed on my perineum again. His mouth was all over me, wet and hot, his lips and then his tongue, alternating flat and firm, then pointed and jabbing, and all the while Brian’s thumb was pressing behind my balls, his saliva coating everything and making me wet and slippery.
I was thrusting shallowly against the bed, not able to really get any kind of friction because he wouldn’t let me up. I felt waves of pleasure radiating out from my ass, but not enough to make me come. He was brushing his thumb back over my hole now every time he pressed it on my perineum, and he was feathering his fingers forward and stroking my balls. The pressure inside me was building up but there was nowhere for it to go, nothing for me to focus it on. I was shaking.
I felt him lift his head up. “Relax. Let me.” His voice was thick and I heard that same gentleness and urgency, all mixed together.
I moaned and tried to push back again, but he pressed firmly against me and made me stay where I was. I bucked a little and he laughed, his breath hot on my asshole, and then his tongue was lapping and licking at me again, and I tried to relax into it and let the feelings just flood through me.
I relaxed my hands, which were clutching at the sheets, and my breathing slowed a little, and he flattened his tongue and moved it in big circles over my hole. He was still pressing his thumb behind my balls and his other hand was still flat on my back, but I wasn’t trying to get up anymore. I couldn’t even think, and just lay there sprawled out and boneless, not aware of anything except his tongue in my ass.
He was pulsing his tongue in me, and I let it wash over me like hot water, started to feel myself floating on the sensation. He made his tongue flat and lapped at the outside of my hole again, his hands still holding me open, my legs still spread. I wanted him to fuck me but I was starting to think I could actually come like this. Every wave of feeling seemed to carry me just a little closer, and when I felt his finger pressing rhythmically on the spot behind my balls, I gave a little gasp and started to rock against the mattress.
Then the feeling started to get overwhelming, but there was still nowhere for it to go. I was saying his name and begging him to fuck me, my voice muffled in the pillow. He must have been waiting for that, because I finally felt his finger at my asshole, wet with lube, pushing inside me. He didn’t touch my prostate, which was a good thing, as I’d have probably come the minute he did.
He lay flat on me and slid his cock inside me. He still wouldn’t let me get up on my knees, and being flat on the bed made it tight, made it hurt a little. I was so crazy at that point I didn’t care, couldn’t even think about what to do, or how it felt, just tried to find a way to come. He finally let me up, and the minute my hips came off the mattress, he had his lubed hand on my cock and I was pushing back against him.
My head was down and Brian was fucking me hard, one hand on my shoulder. He was stroking his cock deliberately over my prostate while his hand moved on me, his fingers closing just enough to keep me on the edge a few minutes more. When my ass started to clamp on him, he tightened his grip, and just as I felt him start to shoot into me, I overflowed on his hand, all the sensations combining into one eruption that went on and on.
I finally finished and fell down on the bed, letting Brian pull out of me. He moved me gently off the wet spot and I curled up against him, my head on his chest, and fell asleep instantly.
Brian’s POV
I woke up in the morning with nothing on me but Justin. The sheet and duvet were on the floor. So were the pillows. Justin had remedied that by burrowing his head into my chest, and at some point his entire body had followed. He was lying on top of me, one hand tucked under his cheek and the other curled down under my waist.
I slid out from under him, and pulled the duvet up off the floor and covered him. After I pissed, I crawled onto the bed and leaned over and kissed him softly on the side of his face until he opened his eyes. He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and his lids started to close before his eyes even focused. I laughed and kissed him again.
“Both your hags are here, you really have to get up.”
He groaned, and kept his eyes closed.
I slapped his ass through the duvet. “I’m going down to make coffee, if you’re not down in ten minutes I’ll tell Daphne and Kalli why you’re so worn out.”
He licked his lips and yawned. “Like they don’t know.”
“They don’t know the intimate details.”
Justin smiled with his eyes closed. “Daphne does.”
I laughed. “I’ve always been afraid of that.”
I went downstairs, and found a full pot of coffee and a perfectly clean kitchen. There were no signs we’d even had a party, except for the big platter of leftover cut fruit on the island. I took a melon wedge and a cup of coffee out to the pool.
Emmett was sitting in the sun next to Daphne, and Kalli was curled up in Justin’s favorite lounge chair in the shade. Artists.
I must have grunted something vaguely like “Good morning,” because Emmett grinned at me cheerfully.
“You look like crap.”
I took a swallow of coffee. “Thanks. Fuck you.”
Kalli laughed, and Daphne giggled a little.
Emmett pushed his sunglasses back. “That’s a truly dazzling case of bed head, Brian. With a dash of just been fucked.”
I drank more coffee and sat down at the foot of an empty lounge chair. “Justin hasn’t even opened his eyes yet.”
I sat there for a while in the sunshine, and listened to the three of them talking about the party, about the food, and about the relative hotness of the guests.
I left them talking and went upstairs to check on Justin. He was sound asleep, his lashes lying on his cheeks and his lips parted just a little. I hesitated to wake him up, and then thought, what the hell. I dropped my sweats and got under the duvet behind him, putting my arm over him and my face in his hair. He didn’t wake up, but he felt soft and warm in my arms, and I smiled a little as I fell back to sleep.
Risks, the sequel to Desires, begins here.
Beta-ing beyond dreams of beta-ness by
gmta_nz.
Commas by
vlredreign. Banner by
roc_abs. Acupuncture by
intensefemme. Desires is dedicated to
vamphile.
Feedback is like water in the desert. Feedback is like batteries for your vibrator. Feedback is like the part in 314 when Justin tells Brian he hasn't lost everything. Are you getting the idea?
Desires, Chapter 4
By Xie
“I know that if I ever go looking for my heart's desire, I'll never go any further than my own back yard. For if it isn't there, I never really lost it.” -Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
Brian’s POV
I woke up to a warm feeling on my neck. It took me a minute to realize it was Justin’s mouth. He was leaning over me, dropping little kisses from my jaw to my throat. I turned from my side onto my back and let him slide on top of me, and wrapped my arms around him. He started kissing my mouth, and I moved my hands up into his hair and kissed him back.
Between kisses, I asked him, “Does this mean you’re done?”
He wriggled his hips a little and I groaned and pressed up against him. “Yeah, it’s all in a nice neat stack to go to Michael tomorrow, and if he wants any changes he can fucking make them himself, I’m finished.”
He kissed me on the mouth again, his hands between us trying to unbutton my jeans. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the television. He must have turned it off before he attacked me.
I kept my hands in his hair and shifted my hips back to give him some room. “We could go upstairs and do this in our bed instead of here.”
“We could do both. I could blow you right here, and then we could go upstairs and I could fuck you.” He slithered off me and knelt next to the sofa, tugging on my jeans, and I laughed and lifted my butt up so he could slide them off. “Or, I could fuck you and then we could go upstairs and I could blow you. Or we could go upstairs and I could fuck you and then blow you. Or…”
He’d started kissing my belly and my cock while he explained our options, all of which, I noticed, had one overriding theme. “Those are my choices?”
Justin didn’t answer, just kept kissing me, still kneeling next to the sofa. His hands were on my hips, and he was gently urging me onto my side, facing him. He moved down my body, sliding his shoulder under my thigh, lifting it up, while his mouth closed on my cock. I let my leg fall over him, my hands on his head, thrusting into his mouth while he slipped one finger in alongside my dick and wet it. Then he looped his arms around my thighs and pulled my cheeks apart with the fingers of one of his hands. He gently worked his wet finger into my ass while he licked and sucked on my cock, letting me rock between his mouth and finger until I was on the edge of coming.
I pulled at his hair and tried to slow him down. He moved his finger back outside me and just played at the opening of my hole, and started licking at the head of my cock. He finally pulled his mouth off, and looked up at me.
I moved my leg off his shoulder and rolled all the way over, and Justin was swarming over my back, his hand reaching out for the sofa table drawer. He sat back for a minute, and I felt his fingers at my ass, cold and wet with lube, and pushed myself up onto my knees.
I laughed a little. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this, after the way you and Michael treated Rage this time.”
I felt his breath and his laugh at my ear. “Michael’s in charge of the plot, don’t take it out on me.” And he slapped at my thigh a little and we stopped talking.
When he slid inside me it burned and hurt and felt good, all at the same time, and I buried my face in my crossed arms and felt him kissing my back and shoulders. He had worked his lubed hand underneath me and was grasping my cock, and I let the motion of him thrusting into me push me into his fist.
Justin was always slow and careful when he started fucking me, but there were times when I could feel him fighting for control. And now and then he lost it, and sometimes I liked feeling him lose it. I tightened my ass on him, and changed the angle of my hips, and he started thrusting into me faster. He moved his hand off my cock and back to my hip, and I bit my lip and tightened on him again, grabbing at his cock with my ass muscles.
He started moaning against my back, my name and sounds that didn’t have any words, and his grip on my hips got even fiercer. I smiled and rocked back just enough to slide my hand down to my own cock, fisting it and smearing my pre-come all over it, jerking myself off roughly while I pulled hard on Justin’s cock with my ass, knowing he was right on the edge of coming, and was trying not to.
The bursts of pleasure inside my ass were melting into one long building wave of heat, spreading into my balls and my cock. I pushed back against him and he pushed into me, and he choked off a cry and pressed his forehead into my back just as I threw my head back and started to come. I felt it in my stomach muscles and my thighs, exploding out from inside me, with Justin’s sweaty chest pressing against me while I felt him shuddering his orgasm into my ass.
I fell down onto the sofa and Justin fell down onto me. I twisted my head around enough so I could see him, his damp hair spread on my back. He lifted his head and smiled softly at me, and I reached back and helped him pull out of me, and then turned onto my side, moving him up between me and the back of the sofa.
We were lying there facing each other, his right arm lying across me. I reached for his hand and rested my palm against his right palm, our fingers lacing together. “How’s your hand?”
He didn’t move it away. “Pretty fucked up.”
I sighed. “Well, at least you’re done.” I worked my other arm out from under us and started to massage his hand. He closed his eyes and after a few minutes, when I was working the big muscle at the base of his thumb, he made a sound like he was purring.
That made me laugh. “You’re easy tonight.”
He poked at me with his foot. “Look who’s talking.”
I smiled and rubbed his hand for a while more, and then put it down and kissed his hair.
“We should go to bed.” I had no idea what time it was. I felt him nod against me, but he didn’t move, so I got up and pulled him off the sofa and upstairs. We were both covered with dried come and sweat, so I started the shower, and when the water was hot he climbed in with me, and stood inside my arms while I washed him and shampooed his hair. His eyes were closed and he was leaning on me, and after all the soap and shampoo were rinsed away from us both, I just stood there, holding him, while the hot water coursed down over us.
His forehead was on my chest, and I had my arms around his shoulders, my head resting on his. He yawned a little. “I’m going to sleep until noon tomorrow.”
“Do you want me to bring the drawings to Michael?”
He pulled his head back and gave me a sleepy version of his best smile, and went up on his toes and kissed me. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”
“Courier service?”
“And sex. And coffee. And hand massages.”
The water started to cool, so I turned off the shower. I dried us both with the same big towel, and Justin opened his eyes long enough to get into bed and curl into my arms. I smoothed his damp hair back from his face and he mumbled a little and kissed my chest, and I felt him fall asleep.
I was surprised when the alarm went off in the morning, to wake up with him still lying on me. Neither of us had moved in the night.
Justin’s POV
When I went downstairs the next day, the pile of the final Rage drawings was gone from my worktable. I’d thought I might take the day off from working, but my hand felt fine and just knowing the comic was done had given me a huge rush of energy. I ate breakfast and carried my coffee into the studio, and dropped my iPod into its dock. I turned on the latest DJ stream Alfe had emailed me, and stood in front of my easel, staring at the blank fiberglass panel.
I carried it over to my worktable, and got out my paints and brushes and the computer-generated designs I was working from, and started painting. I was careful not to overdo it, because I had to lay the wire in the paint lines before they dried, and I needed a certain amount of control to do it. So I monitored my hand carefully, and stopped and rested it as much as I could, and even drank some of my acupuncturist’s tea. I’d gotten used to the taste of it, although I didn’t like it anymore than I ever had. I’d have loved to have someone convince me it wasn’t doing any good, but I wasn’t sure what was actually helping my hand, so I was afraid to stop anything she had me doing.
I was standing there flexing my hand backwards when my cell phone rang from its charger by my computer. It was Daphne. I almost let it roll to voice mail, but I decided I’d stalled long enough. Besides, I needed to take a break and let my hand rest. I turned off the music and answered.
“Hey.”
I heard her sigh. “Hey. I thought you were never going to speak to me again.”
“I was trying to finish Rage, I just finished it last night.” I sat down at my computer and booted it up.
“Are you pissed at me?” If there’d ever been a time in our relationship when Daphne and I beat around the bush, it was so long ago I couldn’t remember.
“I kind of am.”
She didn’t say anything right away. “Because I talked to Brian?”
I shrugged, then realized that was a brilliant strategy over the phone. “Yeah.”
“Justin…. Can I come over? Or are you painting?”
I made up my mind. “My hand’s for shit, I can’t paint anymore for a while, come over.”
She sounded relieved. “Should I bring food?”
“Daph.”
“Duh. Sorry. I’ll bring food.” She hung up.
Brian’s POV
When I got home from work that night, Daphne’s car was in the driveway. I walked in through the kitchen, and saw signs that my stash of pot had been seriously diminished: Two empty microwave popcorn bags, a bowl of what looked like brownie batter in the sink, eggshells sitting on top of the garbage disposal drain, and half a dozen empty beer bottles.
If orange was the new blue, I guessed Justin and Daphne were the new Brian and Michael.
I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. I put the eggshells down the disposal, loaded the dishwasher, put the empty bottles in the recycling bin, and wiped down the counters. Then I went upstairs, changed into my sweats, and went to the workout room.
When I was done, I went out to swim, and that’s when I found them, sitting on the edge of the pool near the steps, heads close together. Giggling. They both looked up when I walked out, and Justin’s face lit up. I loved him when he was stoned. He was even more transparent than usual.
I decided nothing too dramatic was going on if he looked that happy to see me, although Daphne was less than her usual exuberant self. I made an effort to be even more charming than I normally was.
I dropped my pants and dove in the pool naked.
When I came up for air on the other side of the pool, Justin was lying flat on his back laughing while Daphne hit him repeatedly with a little lounge pillow. I shook the water out of my hair and swam over to them innocently.
“Care to share the joke?”
Justin was laughing so hard he couldn’t answer, and Daphne was refusing to look in my direction. I laughed at them and started swimming laps. By the time I was done, they’d calmed down, and Daphne only snuck one quick look when I got out of the pool. I wrapped a towel around my hips and sat with them, taking Justin’s beer away from him and finishing it. They’d made burgers on the grill and I picked at their leftovers. I even ate a brownie when they weren’t watching.
After a while, Justin had his head in my lap and I was playing with his hair and not really listening. They’d been talking in that rambling way that seems so profound and funny when you’re stoned, and so incoherent when you aren’t, so I’d just tuned them out.
I noticed at some point they’d stopped talking. I tried to decide if it was a comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but Justin was dreamily playing with my fingers and Daphne was apparently fascinated with her toes in the underwater light of the pool water, so I relaxed.
“I think Justin’s half-asleep, Daphne, and no offense, but you’re either staying in our guest room or letting me call the car service. Pick one.”
She protested, but I ignored her, and she ended up tucked into bed on the other side of the house.
After we went to our room, Justin showed me yet again that pot made him both horny and affectionate. He was lying on his stomach and I was lying half on him, one leg thrown over his thighs and my head on his outstretched arm. He was still making occasional contented noises in his throat while I made little circles on his back with my fingertips.
“So, everything okay with you and Daphne?”
He sighed and wriggled his hips and I flattened my hand at the base of his spine. “Yeah, we talked. I was kind of mad that she asked you to let her interview you, but that’s really between you and her.”
I ignored that. “Are you going to talk to her for her thesis?”
Justin didn’t answer right away, which told me what he was going to say. When he answered, his voice was soft. “Yeah, I am. Does that bother you?”
I shrugged. “That’s between you and her.”
Justin turned over and gave me a look. “Brian.”
“You should do what you want to do.” I was up on my elbow, looking at him.
Justin had a very annoying patient look on his face. “Okay.” He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. Then he turned on his side and closed his eyes, tugging on my arm so I was pressed against his back. I resisted for a second, but let myself curve around him and fall asleep.
Justin’s POV
I woke up late the next day, and Daphne was already gone. She’d left a note stuck to my monitor, saying she’d call later. I checked my email and saw one from Michael with the subject line, “CALL ME,” and “right away” inside.
I called the store and he picked up on the first ring. “Justin?”
“What’s up?”
“The printer sent over the two covers for us to decide on, and they need our decision by 5. Can you come by the store and look at these?”
Fuck. “I really can’t, Michael. I have a deadline, and I’ve already put too much work off for the comic.”
“Do you want me to decide?” Michael’s voice sounded doubtful, since the two of us had never agreed on a single Rage cover before. I’d won each battle so far, and contemplated giving in on this one, but I really hated the cover I knew he’d pick, even though I’d drawn it.
“Can’t you come out here?”
I could almost hear Michael frown through the phone, but after a pause he said he’d call Ben and see if he’d watch the store and let Michael use the car.
When he got there a couple of hours later, I was starting to think it was time for a break anyway. I washed my hands and brushes, blessing the inventor of acrylic paint, and Michael set the two covers side by side on the table.
We stood next to each other looking at them. One of them was Rage, standing on a very urban looking cement wall, tagged with graffiti and partially crumbling. To his right and slightly behind him was JT, and to his left in the exact same position was Zephyr. Below them, in a half-circle, were Ice Tina, the Governor, and Reverend Swineheart, and behind them were the bashers from the first issue, and behind them, a seemingly unending army of zombies.
The other one was the same basic setting, but Rage and JT were in the center, with Zephyr to the far right, somewhat in the background, turned in profile while he fought off four zombies who were attempting to climb the wall.
JT was in front of Rage, but Rage’s right arm was wrapped all the way around him, pulling him in tight. There was a strange shimmery effect around them, indicating Rage was using his powers of mind control to protect them. JT’s eyes were closed in concentration, and his arms were bent up so his hands rested on Rage’s arm. In this issue, he’d learned how to feed energy to Rage to support his powers, but he could only do it if they were actually touching.
“I know you want this one.” Michael was pointing at the one where he was kicking zombie ass.
I nodded. “All the covers have been Rage and JT. It’s tradition. It’s canonical.” Michael started to object, and I cut him off. “And Zephyr’s ass looks really great in this one, too.”
Michael burst out laughing. “Justin, do you honestly believe I’ll fall for that?”
I shrugged. “It does, though.” But I was smiling.
“The other one is more heroic looking.”
“It’s more conventional looking. This isn’t a conventional comic.”
We argued for a while, and then I won, and then Michael sighed, and we emailed the printer.
I asked if he wanted to see the tennis court that was now a dance floor, and we walked down to the outdoor Babylon Brian and Emmett were having constructed where suburban heterosexuals had once played mixed doubles. The contractors had filled in the holes left by the now-removed fence and poles, painted it all black, and built a stage at one end to house the DJ setup. Alfe was bringing his own equipment and crew. I resolutely refused to even imagine what this was costing. Two electricians were messing with the wiring, and they nodded to us as we stood there.
“Brian’s fucking insane, isn’t he?” Michael looked more impressed than disapproving when he said that, though.
“Yeah. Basically.” I probably did too.
Michael glanced over at me as we went back, using the new, meandering, and extremely picturesque path Emmett had had constructed to replace the utilitarian cement one that used to run from the pool to the tennis court. “How’s your hand?”
“If I take it easy, it’s good. I can draw for a lot longer now, sometimes a couple of hours if I pace myself. Has Brian been grilling you?”
He laughed a little. “Sort of, but also, I’ve just been paying more attention to it since he chewed me out that night.”
“Chewed you out?”
“It was just one night we were working and your hand was cramping, I guess I was supposed to use my powers of mind control to stop you.” Michael was grinning at me.
“Sorry. Sounds like JT will have to have a little chat with our hero.”
“Don’t bother, it was a while ago. It just made me notice more.”
“It’s a lot better than it used to be.”
Michael nodded. “That’s good. So, I should get back to the store before Ben convinces all my customers that they should be reading actual books instead of comics.”
“I thought he said Rage was a post-modern masterpiece?”
“I’ll tell you a little secret: I think he was lying when he said that.”
I burst out laughing.
After Michael left, I went back to work, adding lines of color and laying a few sections of wire. I carefully checked my control before each one, because I didn’t have a lot of room for mistakes; acrylic dries almost instantly. Leave it to me to think of something requiring even more fine motor control than sketching. My next painting was going to be something big and abstract, involving oil paints and canvas, and definitely not involving laying tiny little filaments of wire into wet lines of fast-drying paint.
I finally finished the last one, and smiled. Brian had promised to help me hang them that night, so I left the last one to dry and went upstairs, stripped off my paint-spattered clothes, and took a shower.
When I got back downstairs, Brian was eating Chinese food in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.
I looked at him for a minute. “You know, we have a kitchen table, a dining room table, a picnic table, and any number of sofas and chairs. And yet most of our meals are eaten standing up or on the floor. Why is that?”
He swallowed and stuck his chopsticks in the container and grabbed some chicken. “We’re guys. That’s what guys do.”
“Don’t you think Ted and Blake eat at the table? I know Ben and Michael do.”
“I wake up every day and ask myself what Ted would do, and then I do the opposite.”
I shook my head, grabbed a fork, and stood next to Brian, stealing his Chinese food. After we ate, Brian went upstairs and changed, and then came down to the studio. He helped me hang my paintings, and then climbed up on a ladder and redirected the lights the way I wanted them, so I could show them to Kalli when she got here.
I was standing there chewing my lip and thinking about having him move one of the paintings just a little to the left when he walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.
“We’re not moving them again.”
“I think the upper right hand one needs to go a little to the left.”
“It’s perfect.” He kissed my hair. “You’re just being neurotic.”
“This from the man who wants all the mug handles to face the same way in the cupboard. I won’t even mention the apples.”
“All the more reason you should believe me.” He had moved an arm over my shoulder, and I rested my hands on it.
“I just want to be sure it’s right.”
Brian didn’t say anything, just stood there with me. I looked at the paintings, at the way the four pieces flowed together, like a series of very minor changes in perspective on the same object. The convergence of the grid pattern was just off enough to make it hard for the eye to resolve each field, and the colors were at the same time very pretty and light, and completely dissonant with the graphical quality of the paintings. I was glad Brian wanted to buy them for Kinnetik, because I thought all four needed to be hung together to really work.
I wasn’t really worried about what Kalli would think. When I’d done them, I had the sense I always got when something I’d visualized in my mind was taking shape just the way it was meant to, a sort of rush of certainty. Even when my hand wasn’t cooperating with my brain, I still knew.
I’d once told Brian that the feeling I got when I was drawing was like sex, when I was trying to explain how it felt when my hand was fucked up and I had to stop in the middle of something. But that wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t just like sex, it was like sex with Brian. I wondered what he’d say now, if I told him that.
“Where’d you go?” Brian was still standing there behind me, his arm around me, his chin on my head.
I squeezed his arm with my hands and let them drop, and turned around and hugged him. “You’re right, it’s perfect.” And then we went to bed.
Brian’s POV
I contemplated the clock on the bedside table. It was 6:45 in the morning. Justin was sleeping next to me, apparently oblivious to the sound of the alarm.
I put on a pair of jeans and went downstairs and started the coffee. After careful consideration, I decided it wasn’t too lesbianic to bring some up to Justin before the caterers took over the kitchen.
I sat down on the bed next to him and held the coffee near his face. He opened his eyes. “You brought me coffee. In bed. Who are you and what have you done with Brian?”
“I’m just trying to get you out of bed before the house is overrun with Emmett’s catering crew.”
He sat up and rubbed his hand through his hair, and took the cup and drank some. He turned, set it down on the bedside table, and lay down again, his eyes closed. “Tell me again why I have to get up?”
I resolutely pulled the duvet off him. “Caterers.”
He grabbed at it and pulled it back over himself. “Tell me again why we’re having a party?”
I thought about it. “Fourth of July.”
“Because you’re so patriotic.” He had his eyes tightly closed and the duvet pulled up to his chin.
I rubbed between my eyes. “Okay, I think we’re out of the ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ zone on the party.”
“It seemed like a good idea when you first thought of it.”
I nodded. “So, I was thinking.”
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking we have an hour before the caterers come and that’s enough time for me to blow you.” And then he opened his eyes and gave me a grin. Caffeine really was my favorite drug.
After we showered, Justin was standing at the closet staring at his clothes. He glanced at me when I stood next to him. “What are you wearing tonight?”
I gestured to the bed, where I’d thrown the jeans and shirt I planned on wearing. He looked at them, then back at the closet, biting his lip. I put my hand on the back of his neck.
“What’s the problem?”
“I suddenly realized I was going to wear a red shirt and blue jeans and I thought that was too thematic.”
“You look hot in red.”
Justin lifted his hand, which had a red t-shirt in it. I took it from him and held it up. I had fond memories of Justin in that t-shirt. And out of that t-shirt. And getting him out of that t-shirt.
“You should wear that.” I sounded decisive.
He nodded. “Pants.”
I folded my lips inward as I considered and ruled out most of Justin’s pants. I pulled his black jeans off the hanger and handed them to him.
Justin looked unconvinced. “It’s summer.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can stand there and stare, and hope that the power of your will makes a pair of white linen pants appear on your side of the closet. Or wear these.”
I left Justin to ponder the deficiencies in his wardrobe and went downstairs to see if Emmett had gotten there yet. He had, and was standing in the middle of the kitchen directing his crew to put things everywhere. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to get in my car and go to the loft and come back when the guests arrived. It actually seemed like a great idea, and I was about to go upstairs and see if Justin wanted to come when Emmett spotted me.
“Good. Brian. Where is the state-of-the-art food processor station you told me you had? I’ve looked everywhere, and by the way, I didn’t see any food at all, but if there’s ever a nationwide shortage of lube, I know where to come: Your kitchen.”
I put my tongue in my cheek. “You never know when something will come up that requires lubrication.”
Emmett looked into my eyes and nodded. “I understand perfectly. It’s good to be prepared. Speaking of preparation, the food processor?”
I went over to the wall, pressed on it, and it popped open, revealing a built-in food processing center.
“That’s amazing. I have just one more question.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Emmett held up one of Justin’s zip lock baggies of Chinese herbal tea. “Why do you have bags of mulch in your kitchen?”
I was definitely going to the loft.
The doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but stopped in the doorway on the way out. “Emmett, if you have a minute, Justin’s having a fashion crisis upstairs. Go tell him to wear the black jeans and get his ass down here? I think this is Kalli.”
Emmett was halfway up the stairs as soon as he heard the words “fashion” and “crisis” in the same sentence, and I went to the door and let Kalli in. She looked decidedly un-summery, in a black sleeveless blouse, an ankle-length black linen skirt, and black high-heeled sandals. I loved this girl.
Kalli’s face broke out in a big smile when I opened the door. “Brian, may I have you make all my travel arrangements from now on? The driver was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, other than, of course, you. He, however, is both single and heterosexual. And he tells me that you have invited him to your party. I’m thinking I might have to put you in my will.”
I laughed and took her black leather overnight bag off her shoulder. “Ah yes, the wonder that is Evan. Just promise to tell me all the details, and I’ll make sure he drives you back on Sunday night, too.”
I took her upstairs and she flopped down on the bed. “This is like a five star hotel. Which is,” she said, looking at me upside down in a very Justin-like way, “where I normally stay when I travel.”
“Of course.” I was guessing, more like lots of friends’ sofas, despite the patina of New York chic she wore. I remembered her Alphabet City workspace.
We went downstairs. “I’d show you the studio but Justin would kill me, and he’s locked in our room trying to figure out what to wear to the party, even though he professed total indifference to the question until today.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s Justin. He likes to look pretty but not if he has to do anything like shop or make a decision. It’s good a thing he’s naturally beautiful.”
“Fashion crisis solved.” It was Emmett coming down the stairs, looking pleased. “And you’ll be happy to know, Brian, we decided you were right about the black jeans.”
“Of course I was right. I always know what to put on Justin’s ass.”
“Okay, I’m going to resist the obvious response to that since there’s a lady present.” And he gave Kalli a big hug.
We were sitting out by the pool, Kalli deeply in the shade, when Justin found us. He was wearing thin sweatpants and his most paint-splotched t-shirt, which somewhat disturbingly made him look incredibly hot. He dragged Kalli off to the studio almost before he said hello, and Emmett left to check on his crew.
Kalli loved Justin’s new paintings, and tried that afternoon to convince me not to buy them. Emmett had glared at us when we tried to get into the kitchen, and finally brought us out some food, which since I’d paid for all of it, seemed only fair. He sat down with us, but every few minutes someone would come and ask him to make a decision, and eventually he didn’t come back.
Later that afternoon, I was trying to read my email. Justin and Kalli were in his studio, and his techno music was thumping in competition with the sound check going on down at the tennis court. I knew I should have gone to the loft. I wondered if it was really too late, when Justin stuck his head in. “I’m going up to get dressed, it’s after 6.”
The party didn’t start until 8, so I just nodded and told him I’d be up later. I replied to a few last minute emails from people who couldn’t follow the directions or use the map we’d sent with the invitations, and then went outside. Alfe and his assistant were deep in conversation with the electrician from Babylon, and everything looked perfect. Maybe Emmett really was worth the small fortune he was charging me. The buffet table was set up on the shady side of the patio, and it was a sleek line of chrome without a single linen tablecloth or flower in sight. And not one flag or hint of red, white, and blue.
Justin’s POV
Kalli was getting ready, which I knew from experience took her the better part of forever, but I’d decided to go ahead and get ready, too. I was standing in front of the mirror in the black jeans Brian had bought for me in New York, and my favorite red t-shirt. The shirt was made of some incredibly soft, light knit, and while it looked like any old red t-shirt, it wasn’t. It fit me perfectly, and felt soft on my skin. I let my hand slip under the bottom of the shirt and graze my stomach.
I heard the door open and turned around and caught Brian looking at me. His face had a sort of stunned look on it, but he didn’t say anything.
I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “What do you think?”
Brian’s lip twitched, and he looked directly into my eyes. He walked over and sat on the bed, and unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. “I told you to wear that.”
“I figure any fashion advice you and Emmett agree on must be right.” I was still idly touching my stomach, and his eyes were still following my hand. I walked close to him and stood between his legs. He was leaning back on his hands, still with that little smile on his lips.
Brian shifted forward. He pushed my t-shirt up and surprised me by just resting his face against my stomach for a minute. His hands were on my hips and his forehead was pressed against me, and then after a minute I felt his lips moving on my skin, and I shivered. He opened my jeans and started nuzzling my cock, licking at the head and sliding his hands up under my shirt and playing with my nipples.
I laughed a little when his mouth closed on my cock, but a few minutes later my knees were sagging against the bed, Brian’s hands were gripping the backs of my thighs, and my cock was buried deep in his throat while he licked and sucked my orgasm out of me. I literally fell against him after I came, and he let me slide down, his mouth finding mine.
He was leaning forward, pressing his forehead against me, his hands in my hair. I was still breathless.
“The best things happen when I let you pick out my clothes.”
He slid his hands down the side of my face and grinned at me. “You look hot in that.”
I laughed shakily. “Yeah, I kind of figured you thought so.”
I curled up between his legs and he rested his hands on my head while I licked his cock. He groaned when I locked my lips around the head and closed my fist on his shaft. I sucked and jerked him until he lifted his hips off the bed and grabbed handfuls of my hair and pulled, and then I felt him hit the back of my throat. I relaxed and then swallowed, and felt him flood into me, and I kept swallowing until he let his hips drop down. He was panting and laughing, and I kissed him, feeling his tongue inside my mouth, tasting himself.
Good thing I’d come up early.
Brian pulled on a sleeveless dark olive t-shirt and jeans, and we went downstairs. The first guests to get there were Debbie and Carl. Debbie had brought food, but Emmett, who, after all, lived with Debbie, was prepared for that, and accepted it graciously. Brian and I were sitting with them by the pool when my mom got there with Tucker, and then Daphne showed up at the same time Mel and Lindz did.
Lindsay bent down to kiss Deb, who gave her a big smack on her cheek. “Where’s Gus and my granddaughter?”
Mel snorted, and Lindsay frowned at her. “Eli and Monty have them, seeing as how Brian didn’t invite them.”
I left Brian to enjoy a rare bonding moment with Melanie, and went looking for Daphne. She was sitting on the diving board, talking to my mom, who was at a table next to it. Tucker was nowhere to be seen, but he came back with drinks for everyone after a few minutes.
“Gorgeous place,” he said politely. Tucker and I had officially buried the hatchet, but we still weren’t what you’d call friends.
“It’s a fucking palace.” Debbie sat down at the table next to my mom, who smiled.
“Every mother’s dream.”
Debbie laughed. “I never thought I’d hear anyone, certainly not you, describe Brian Kinney as a mother’s dream. At least, not that kind of dream.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, I’m sitting right here. And you’re talking about the man I unconventionally cohabitate with.”
Daphne looked at me skeptically. “Would you point out the unconventional part, Justin?”
Debbie laughed again. “It’s the part where if he doesn’t say that, Brian glares at him.”
“Doesn’t say what?” Brian had come up behind me. “Tucker. Good to see you.”
Brian dropped a kiss on Daphne’s cheek, then my mom’s, and then Debbie’s, who slapped gently at his. “We’re just teasing Justin.”
He slid into the chair next to mine, and smiled at me. “Justin’s easy that way.”
I blushed, and everyone laughed.
The dancing wasn’t supposed to start until after 9, and we were having fireworks at midnight, but there was music and an open bar, as well as steak and lobster and six kinds of chocolate cake, including one Emmett swore had almost no fat at all. I took my plate over to where Mel and Lindz were sitting with Ben, at a candle-lit table under a tree full of tiny lights.
“Well, Brian must be happy.” Melanie was pulling lobster out of a tail with a lobster fork. “Emmett must be happy. And rich. I’ve never seen lobster at a backyard barbecue before.”
Ben laughed. “I somehow doubt Brian would describe this as a backyard barbecue.” He turned to me. “Michael says you’re working on the pieces for the show in December. How’s it going?”
We sat there talking about art, and then a little later I went looking for Kalli, but she was engrossed in conversation with some of the people from the art department at Kinnetik. I was getting restless for the dancing to start.
Daphne was still sitting with my mom, and I wondered if she was trying to get her to talk to her for her thesis. For some reason the thought made me uncomfortable. Sometimes letting other people do what they wanted to do was for shit. I had to remember to tell Brian that.
“Justin.” It was Brian’s voice, and I turned my head towards it and saw him standing in a small group with Cynthia and some clients, including Richard Bohling from New York. I walked over to join them, and Brian slid his arm around my waist. He seemed a little bit drunk, but not much. “Richard, you remember Justin?”
“Of course I do, how are you, Justin?”
Brian introduced me to his other clients, and I smiled politely while they made small talk for a while. Brian had his hand inside the back of my shirt the whole time, just resting on my bare skin.
I pulled Brian down to his outdoor Babylon the minute the dancing started. Emmett had kept it simple, just flickering lights in the trees along the path, and mostly darkness around the dance floor. They had set up a second bar, and tables. The DJ stage was edged in lights, giving it a weird upwards glow, and there were dim lights marking the edges of the old tennis court. It actually was amazingly club-like, given it was in the middle of our lawn. Although if Emmett and Brian between them couldn’t re-create Babylon anywhere, no one could.
Brian’s POV
It was dark and warm, and I was dancing with Justin. Only the awareness that his mother was dancing a few feet away from us with her much younger boyfriend kept my hands above Justin’s waist and mostly on the outside of his shirt.
Mostly.
Justin was kissing me when I realized he was high. I pulled away and looked into his eyes.
“Where’d you get the E?”
He laughed and blushed a little. “Out of that box in the bedroom.”
“You’re stealing my drugs?” I nuzzled his hair and he went back to kissing my neck.
“It’s in our prenuptial agreement. Your drugs are my drugs.”
“Ah.” His tongue on my throat was very distracting.
“Don’t worry, I only took a half.”
“I’m not worried. But remind me not to invite your mother out dancing with us again. It inhibits me.” Justin had his hands on my shoulders and mine were on his waist, and I’d bent my knees a little so I could say it against his ear.
He laughed, and went up on his toes to put his mouth close to my ear. “Remind me to remind you not to bring up my mother while you have your hands inside my shirt.”
After a while, Justin danced off with Kalli and Daphne, and I got a drink at the bar and stood next to the DJ stage. I was looking at the crowded dance floor when Alfe stepped down next to me.
“Who’s the little sister in the orange shirt?”
“Justin’s best friend since grade school.”
“His hag.”
I shrugged.
Alfe continued to look consideringly at Daphne. She had gone on her toes and put her hands on Justin’s shoulders and was saying something into his ear. “Is she straight?”
I took a swallow from my glass. “She is.”
“Any problem if I ask her to dance?”
“She’ll let you know if there is.”
“Justin won’t challenge me to a duel or ask my intentions?”
I laughed. “It’s Daphne you have to worry about. She’s small but deadly.”
Alfe grinned and asked his assistant, a tank-topped, tattooed blonde in a bandanna, to take over DJ duties for a while. She nodded, never taking her eyes off the sound system. Alfe headed out onto the dance floor and greeted Justin casually, resting a hand on his shoulder while being introduced to Daphne and Kalli.
I watched in admiration as Alfe gradually danced Daphne away from the group, and no one even noticed. Including Daphne, who was chattering happily with him while they danced.
“Enjoying the show?” It was Ted, a glass of something red-tinged and sparkly in his hand. I knocked back the last of my drink and shrugged.
Ted looked out at the dancers. “Alfe’s got his moves down.”
I wasn’t sure if Ted was referring to Alfe’s dancing or the fact that he was leaning down close to Daphne’s face, laughing at whatever she was saying to him.
I walked with him back over to the bar. “If anyone can take care of herself, it’s Daphne. She’s second only to Justin in determination and deviousness, and I’m not sure she’s actually second to him. I think it’s entirely possible she taught him everything he knows.”
Ted laughed. “I’d say those particular moves are somewhat familiar. Almost, dare I say it, Kinney-esque?”
“Hey.” It was Blake. He slipped his arm around Ted’s waist and kissed him. We went and sat down with Michael and Ben. Melanie and Lindsay were out on the dance floor, and I realized from the way Lindsay was writhing against Mel where the other half of Justin’s E had gone. Some things never change.
A little later, I was dancing with Michael when I felt someone bump into me from behind. It was a very flushed Justin, his hair falling in his eyes and a big smile on his face. I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into my chest, smiling back at him. He tipped his head back and I leaned down and kissed him. His lips were still a little swollen from earlier, and I nibbled at the bottom one before we broke apart.
Justin giggled, and I looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Look at Daphne and Emmett. She comes up to his waist.” I kissed the top of his head and didn’t make any jokes about height. The minute Justin’s mommy had gone home, I’d followed his example and did half a hit of E myself. And then I let him make me drink water, which amused him endlessly.
“Let’s dance some more.” I shook my head, and Justin laughed and went out and danced with Emmett and Daphne instead. I walked over to where Michael and Ted were sitting with Ben and Blake, and dropped down into an empty chair.
Emmett had abandoned Daphne to Justin, and came and flopped down in the seat next to me, dropping his head dramatically onto his arms on the table. “I have to be back here at six with the clean-up crew. Just wake me up when they get here.”
He lifted his head, and followed my eyes to Justin and Daphne. “I remember when we had that much energy.”
“Speak for yourself.” I gestured to the waiter for another scotch.
Ted laughed. “Still forever young, Brian?”
“I have enough energy to stay up past midnight dancing on a Saturday night.”
“And keep up with your horny 23-year-old?”
The waiter came back with my drink. I just smiled.
Emmett was watching us. “Who’d ever have thought that night Justin was standing under that streetlight outside Babylon, that we’d be sitting here all these years later, and the two of you would be together?”
“Justin.” Everyone turned and looked at Michael. “Justin thought it.”
I laughed.
One of Emmett’s minions came up and told him the fireworks were ready to start. I finished my drink and snagged Justin from Daphne on the way to the edge of the dance floor to watch. I was standing there with my arm around him when I suddenly had the unfamiliar thought that I was happy. Maybe it was the Ecstasy, or the fireworks, or having Babylon literally in my own backyard for the night. I pulled Justin up tight against my hip, leaning my upper body away a little. We both laughed when his feet lifted off the ground. I swung him around a little ways, and then set him down, and he turned into me, smiling. I kissed him.
He turned back around and we stood watching the fireworks. I’d had to pay someone from the fire department to observe the pyrotechnics experts, and the display was one of the things I’d used to bribe our few neighbors into overlooking the late night music. Justin had his head resting against my chest and his hands on my arms, and I felt his hair brushing against my face.
“Justin.” I said it just as there was a particularly big explosion of lights, and I wasn’t sure he heard me. But his hands squeezed on my arms, and he turned his head back towards me. I tilted my face down and kissed him, my tongue going back to trace his lower lip, and then play with his inside his mouth. The night was warm and Justin was warm, and his mouth was hot.
He turned all the way around, and put his arms around my neck and stood on his toes. Red lights showered down behind him, and he kissed me and whispered into my ear, “I love you, Brian. It’s a beautiful night. It’s perfect.”
I didn’t say anything, just smiled and kissed him again.
The fireworks finally ended, and people drifted back to the dance floor and the bar, or towards their cars. I’d promised the neighbors we’d turn off the music at 1, and a lot of the guests were going to Babylon. Alfe was already ramping down the beats per minute, and Emmett’s crew was breaking down the buffet table.
“Goodnight, Brian.” Lindsay kissed my cheek, and I gave her a hug. Melanie was standing next to her, thanking Justin for a great time, and he went off to walk them to their car. Emmett came up to me, frowning. “Brian, have you seen Daphne? I saw her run past me during the fireworks, but I couldn’t get away, and now I can’t find her. Her car’s still out there. She looked kind of upset.”
I sighed, but followed Emmett back to the pool. “Justin’s walking Lindsay and Mel to their car, see if you can find him, and I’ll check the house.”
Daphne wasn’t anywhere, but eventually I tried down behind the garage where Michael and I always went to get high. At first I thought she wasn’t there either, but then I saw her sitting on the ground, her back against the garage wall. Emmett was right. She’d been crying.
I went and slid down the wall next to her. “Hey.”
She sniffled, and I slid my arm along her shoulder. She didn’t say anything.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and I sighed in frustration. Women. Tears. I needed a drink. And where the fuck was Justin? This was definitely his responsibility.
I sat there for a while without saying anything, and finally Daphne sniffled again. “I was watching the fireworks. And you and Justin looked so happy.”
“Yeah, that is bad.” I decided to try humoring her until Justin got there.
She gave a weepy little laugh. “Do you ever take anything seriously, Brian?”
I pulled away and turned and looked down at her. She was drunk, but not as drunk as I thought at first. Her hair was in ringlets on the top of her head, and her eyeliner was smeared, and even though she’d laughed, she looked upset.
I spoke carefully, not really sure what she was asking. “What the fuck’s wrong, Daphne? Give me a hint.”
“Are you still pissed I asked to interview you?”
So that’s what we were talking about. “I was never pissed. You asked. I answered. It’s over.”
She frowned at me. “It’s that simple?”
I shrugged. “It is for me.”
“Justin said you wouldn’t want to talk about it to me. How come?”
I felt tension in my jaw, and waited until it lessened to answer her. “I don’t have anything to say that you don’t already know.”
I rested my head against the garage wall, and kept my arm around her shoulders. She didn’t say anything for a long time, and I started thinking maybe we should head back to the party.
“Brian?”
I sighed. “Hmmm?”
“This isn’t for my thesis, I just want to know. Do you ever still think about it?”
“Of course I do.”
She put her head back against the wall and looked up. “Me, too.”
I looked down at her, and I could see that she was crying. I folded my lips in, and tightened my arm on her, but I didn’t know what to say. A shadow moved across the path and I looked up and saw Justin, standing over us. I wondered how long he’d been there.
“Hey.”
He hesitated, and then came and slid down the wall next to me. “What’s going on? Emmett said Daphne was upset over something, and I’ve been looking for you guys for half an hour.”
I put my other arm over Justin’s shoulder and rested my head on his. “Daphne’s a little drunk and seems to think I’m mad at her. We’re just clearing that up.”
Justin looked at Daphne across me, and bit his lip. “Daph?”
“I’m okay, Brian says he’s not pissed.”
“I told you he wasn’t.”
She just nodded. Justin stretched his hand across my lap and she grabbed it, and I sat there with my arms around the two of them, my head leaning against the wall.
Justin’s POV
By the time we came out, the party was pretty much over. There was a cleanup crew coming in the morning, so Emmett was catching a few hours of sleep upstairs. Kalli had gone to Babylon with Evan and some of the artists from Kinnetik.
I got Daphne settled in one of the guest rooms, and came into the bedroom. Brian was already in bed. I stripped off my clothes and climbed in next to him. He pulled me backwards against him, and rolled me over gently, kissing the back of my neck.
I felt tired, even exhausted. All I wanted was to close my eyes and go to sleep, but the minute I felt Brian’s breath on my neck, my nerve endings began to tingle and I woke up a little. There was something about the way he was touching me, something gentle but urgent at the same time, that made me wake up even more.
Brian’s hands were stroking my sides and I felt him sliding down my body. He was kissing my back and his hands were pressing my thighs open, and then he buried his face in the crack of my ass, his tongue flat and wet and hot as he dragged it across my asshole, and the minute his tongue touched it, he moaned.
I rose up a little on my knees, I couldn’t help it, but he pressed me back into the mattress, pushing my thighs apart with his elbows and pulling my cheeks open with his hands. He was flicking his tongue lightly over my opening, and then running it firmly up and down my crack, pressing his face into me hard. I could feel his breath, his stubble, the softness of his lips, all rubbing against me. I was wet from his spit, and then I felt his thumb slide down and press against the smooth spot behind my balls while he made his tongue pointed and jabbed it inside me.
I tried to lift up again, but he put his free hand on my hip and pressed, and then I felt him make his tongue flat and swipe it firmly over my hole, back and forth, and then he started swirling it just outside my opening, and pressed on my perineum again. His mouth was all over me, wet and hot, his lips and then his tongue, alternating flat and firm, then pointed and jabbing, and all the while Brian’s thumb was pressing behind my balls, his saliva coating everything and making me wet and slippery.
I was thrusting shallowly against the bed, not able to really get any kind of friction because he wouldn’t let me up. I felt waves of pleasure radiating out from my ass, but not enough to make me come. He was brushing his thumb back over my hole now every time he pressed it on my perineum, and he was feathering his fingers forward and stroking my balls. The pressure inside me was building up but there was nowhere for it to go, nothing for me to focus it on. I was shaking.
I felt him lift his head up. “Relax. Let me.” His voice was thick and I heard that same gentleness and urgency, all mixed together.
I moaned and tried to push back again, but he pressed firmly against me and made me stay where I was. I bucked a little and he laughed, his breath hot on my asshole, and then his tongue was lapping and licking at me again, and I tried to relax into it and let the feelings just flood through me.
I relaxed my hands, which were clutching at the sheets, and my breathing slowed a little, and he flattened his tongue and moved it in big circles over my hole. He was still pressing his thumb behind my balls and his other hand was still flat on my back, but I wasn’t trying to get up anymore. I couldn’t even think, and just lay there sprawled out and boneless, not aware of anything except his tongue in my ass.
He was pulsing his tongue in me, and I let it wash over me like hot water, started to feel myself floating on the sensation. He made his tongue flat and lapped at the outside of my hole again, his hands still holding me open, my legs still spread. I wanted him to fuck me but I was starting to think I could actually come like this. Every wave of feeling seemed to carry me just a little closer, and when I felt his finger pressing rhythmically on the spot behind my balls, I gave a little gasp and started to rock against the mattress.
Then the feeling started to get overwhelming, but there was still nowhere for it to go. I was saying his name and begging him to fuck me, my voice muffled in the pillow. He must have been waiting for that, because I finally felt his finger at my asshole, wet with lube, pushing inside me. He didn’t touch my prostate, which was a good thing, as I’d have probably come the minute he did.
He lay flat on me and slid his cock inside me. He still wouldn’t let me get up on my knees, and being flat on the bed made it tight, made it hurt a little. I was so crazy at that point I didn’t care, couldn’t even think about what to do, or how it felt, just tried to find a way to come. He finally let me up, and the minute my hips came off the mattress, he had his lubed hand on my cock and I was pushing back against him.
My head was down and Brian was fucking me hard, one hand on my shoulder. He was stroking his cock deliberately over my prostate while his hand moved on me, his fingers closing just enough to keep me on the edge a few minutes more. When my ass started to clamp on him, he tightened his grip, and just as I felt him start to shoot into me, I overflowed on his hand, all the sensations combining into one eruption that went on and on.
I finally finished and fell down on the bed, letting Brian pull out of me. He moved me gently off the wet spot and I curled up against him, my head on his chest, and fell asleep instantly.
Brian’s POV
I woke up in the morning with nothing on me but Justin. The sheet and duvet were on the floor. So were the pillows. Justin had remedied that by burrowing his head into my chest, and at some point his entire body had followed. He was lying on top of me, one hand tucked under his cheek and the other curled down under my waist.
I slid out from under him, and pulled the duvet up off the floor and covered him. After I pissed, I crawled onto the bed and leaned over and kissed him softly on the side of his face until he opened his eyes. He looked at me uncomprehendingly, and his lids started to close before his eyes even focused. I laughed and kissed him again.
“Both your hags are here, you really have to get up.”
He groaned, and kept his eyes closed.
I slapped his ass through the duvet. “I’m going down to make coffee, if you’re not down in ten minutes I’ll tell Daphne and Kalli why you’re so worn out.”
He licked his lips and yawned. “Like they don’t know.”
“They don’t know the intimate details.”
Justin smiled with his eyes closed. “Daphne does.”
I laughed. “I’ve always been afraid of that.”
I went downstairs, and found a full pot of coffee and a perfectly clean kitchen. There were no signs we’d even had a party, except for the big platter of leftover cut fruit on the island. I took a melon wedge and a cup of coffee out to the pool.
Emmett was sitting in the sun next to Daphne, and Kalli was curled up in Justin’s favorite lounge chair in the shade. Artists.
I must have grunted something vaguely like “Good morning,” because Emmett grinned at me cheerfully.
“You look like crap.”
I took a swallow of coffee. “Thanks. Fuck you.”
Kalli laughed, and Daphne giggled a little.
Emmett pushed his sunglasses back. “That’s a truly dazzling case of bed head, Brian. With a dash of just been fucked.”
I drank more coffee and sat down at the foot of an empty lounge chair. “Justin hasn’t even opened his eyes yet.”
I sat there for a while in the sunshine, and listened to the three of them talking about the party, about the food, and about the relative hotness of the guests.
I left them talking and went upstairs to check on Justin. He was sound asleep, his lashes lying on his cheeks and his lips parted just a little. I hesitated to wake him up, and then thought, what the hell. I dropped my sweats and got under the duvet behind him, putting my arm over him and my face in his hair. He didn’t wake up, but he felt soft and warm in my arms, and I smiled a little as I fell back to sleep.
Risks, the sequel to Desires, begins here.