Spin and Fall

Chapter 14

Justin drove home from Brian’s and knowing sleep would be ever harder to come by, put on his running clothes. As if on second thought, he went to the toilet and vomited his dinner. He drank two tall glasses of water, walked out ignoring the ringing of the phone, locked up and tied his house key to his shoelaces.

He decided to get on Main to Butler, and followed Butler all the way to Highland Park, going around the park on Washington Boulevard onto Fifth and then back to Main all the way back to Mathilda and home. The circuit should be about 13 miles he thought, give or take a mile, and it was all on well-lit roads. He had no desire to be hit by a car or beaten and robbed. He was just seeking a way to calm himself, to think and to exhaust himself physically.

As usual his body screamed in protest for the first couple of miles, until he hit his stride and was able to think further than putting one foot in front of the other. He thought back to the previous Friday, to how fucking happy he’d been with Aidan, eating pad Thai and talking about Andy Warhol in between some awesome fucking, and joking about all the French things that were not really French, French fries, French dressing, French braid, and making up commercial jingles for baguettes, berets, and a particularly good one about the guillotine.

Saturday morning, they’d made love for over an hour, finishing with Aidan impaled on his cock, moving excruciatingly slowly to keep them on the cusp for as long as possible, his body above Justin trembling with the effort and wet with sweat, until he’d whispered to Justin, “Finish it,” and had kissed him, his mouth surprisingly cool and minty. Justin had thrust up into Brian’s body three times before feeling the sleek warmth of Brian’s seed spreading between their sweaty bodies, and he’d pushed in one more time as his own body seemed to climax one cell at a time, from his extremities to his core, leaving him unconscious to float in a sea of pleasure.

Somehow Brian had rolled them over, and they’d woken up after a three-hour nap kind of glued together, the condom still on Justin’s cock, and in severe need of a shower.

Tuesday’s discovery of Brian's twink had blown this perfect little world wide open, and he’d honestly thought he was going to Brian’s tonight understanding the core of their problem, just to have everything blow up in his face once again.

If you love someone, shouldn’t you be able to sense his unhappiness? His frustration? His anger?

He knew now why he never met Brian in the backroom anymore. Justin loved to watch Brian fuck. Brian hated to watch Justin fuck. Brian felt he was competing with all of his tricks, that Justin was giving others things that should be his and his alone.

He thought of Brian fucking his mouth, saying, “You’re mine, Justin. You’re fucking mine…” Maybe he’d been too hurt and self absorbed to understand the true meaning of the words Brian had said while fucking Kyle, “I need it, I need to fuck you… Don’t give this to anyone else, you hear me? Bad enough you suck them, rim them and fuck them, but this is mine, your ass his mine, you are mine, Sunshine…"

Brian’s reason for wanting to fuck him was not only that he was a top. Oh, that was a big part of it, certainly… But Brian also wanted, needed, something that would be his alone, something of Justin that he would have, and not share with anyone else.

Justin was running fast. Too fast for such a long run, he needed to slow down. He went around the park and caught the biking trail. It was less well lit, but Washington Boulevard was much busier than he had expected it would be on a Friday night. He made a conscious effort to slow his pace so he could last the course. What should he do? Hell, what the fuck could he do?

He had clearly heard Brian’s hurt and unhappiness and could not stand it. There was absolutely no choice, really. It would be pretty fucking hard, but he would stop using the backroom, he would stop tricking. Well, actually, Brian didn’t seem to have a problem with him getting blowjobs, so he would try to satisfy himself with that. Hopefully, he’d be able to find enough takers to get a couple every night…

Brian would no longer have to share. Maybe his urge to top Justin would decrease significantly, and be easier for him to manage then? As for Justin’s fuck buddies, they’d just have to find someone else to play with… Shit. Blow jobs were OK, but he really loved fucking. And he liked his fucked buddies. He would miss Bill and Theo the most. Could they remain friends? Though aside from fucking, he really had nothing in common with Bill.

Well, at least he’d be able to train more often with Terry. He’d just have to tell him that sex of any kind was out. He’d think of some explanation… God, this was going to be so fucking hard…

He became aware of being trailed when the gentle purr of the motorcycle broke into his conscious thought. He turned around to see a large bike, its lights off, following him about 200 yards back. The silhouette on the bike was dark, with a dark tinted helmet which reflected the occasional street light on the boulevard. This was the area between Leech Farm and Negley Run where the running trail was caught between the tennis court’s fence and the nine feet, almost vertical bank along Washington. When Justin ran around the park in the daytime it was one of his favorite spots, because the noise from the boulevard was almost completely cut out.

He was trying to reason things out and stay calm. The motorcycle seemed to keep its distance, just purring along, and really, what could they want with a runner? (You know what they want, you know what they want…) He had no money on his person, he was not some attractive woman (They don’t want a woman, you know what they want, you know, you know!). If they wanted to accost him, they’d have to get off their bike, and he could outrun a lot of people, especially with adrenaline coursing through his body…

About 1/3 of the way down the corridor formed by the fence and the bank, the bike revved up a little. Justin turned around, jogging backwards for a moment, and turned around again, his heart beating so fast his ears were whistling with the rush of blood. The bike was closing the distance, and in his right hand, like some medieval jouster, the biker held a baseball bat.

Just for a moment, Justin’s mind was a jumble of scenes from the past (You know what he wants, you KNOW what he wants), and of random thoughts, Biscotti, yummy but not too fattening, Emmett would never jerk off for muffins, French crepes, perhaps, can the Hair Club for Men do blond highlights? Brian’s door needs oiling, WD40, WD40, he probably doesn’t even own that kind of lube…

Then he saw in his mind Stuart smiling at him, after bringing him down from his panic attack. Stuart, Blake, Emmett, Ted, his friends, Brian, his lover. Brian, Brian, Brian. He suddenly felt calm, his body ready, invincible, his mind absolutely clear and focussed. He checked. The bike was now only half as far behind him as it had been, accelerating slowly. One deep readying breath and he took off.

The rhythm of his feet on the smooth blacktop matched the beating of his heart, and he was weightless, flying. It was exhilarating and he felt incredible. The motorcycle revved up and covered the ground between them at high speed. Justin could hear it get closer and closer, could hear the whistling of the wind on the bat. He saw his goal and threw himself on the kissing gate as the bat hit the outside post of the triangle and fell, clattering on the blacktop.

[Kissing gate viewed from the top. It has a swinging arm (right) and three post. The shaded area is the "refuge". Because of its configuration, it is always "closed".]

The bike teetered, then righted itself and turned, but Justin was already running across the tennis court, opening the court’s other gate into the park, and running headlong into the night. Deciding his run could be shortened since he was going at such a nice clip, he took the shortest possible way home, only a couple of miles. He figured later he must have run the distance at about a 5-minute mile, and was quite proud of himself.

Justin laughed a bit hysterically as he wrestled to get his key free from the laces with his trembling hands. He knew he was going to crash soon, from the long run and from the amount of adrenaline released in his body earlier. Door opened, he wasted no time and just grabbed his car keys. Twenty minutes later, he was sliding open the door to the loft (which really needed WD40) giggling as he made his way in on Jell-O legs.

Brian stood up from the couch. He was still dressed in his jeans and wife beater, looking haggard, the phone clasped in his hand. He caught Justin as he was about to collapse, and held him against himself very, very tightly. God, Justin had needed that.

“I’m back,” said Justin, quite uselessly. He giggled. “I love you, Brian. I won’t trick anymore. I so need a shower…” He giggled again. “I’m all giggly.” He proved it again. “Hey, big stud! Take me to the shower or lose me forever!” he misquoted from Hot Gun.

Brian chuckled. “What the fuck are you on?”

“Endorphins, baby! The natural high!” Giggle.

Justin tried very hard to stay standing straight as Brian took off his running clothes, but it just tickled so much, it was really, really hard.

“Justin! Damn it! Stop wiggling!”

“But it kittles! Oh my god! Did you hear that? I said tickle instead of kittle, I mean kittle instead of kit… fuuuuck! Tickles!”

Next thing he knew, he was hitting the bed and Brian’s nose was buried in his pubes, in his armpit, in his neck.

“You smell so fucking good Justin, so fucking good.” Brian pushed the sweaty hair off of Justin’s forehead. Suddenly sobered, Justin looked in the hazel eyes, and could not read them.

Brian rolled in his lips, took a deep breath, and said, “You were absolutely correct earlier. I was unfair. I’m… sorry. And your heart is worth more than anything else. It is the only thing that matters, really. I…I love you. You have my heart.”

 

****************
 

Justin’s running clothes were hard to take off because they were literally soaked in sweat. Disbelieving, Brian actually checked the window for rain. Justin was acting so goofy, not helping at all.

What the fuck had he done? Sprinted here from his house? Who cared? He was here, back in Brian’s arms. Did he actually say he would stop tricking? Why would he agree to that? It was crazy.

The socks came off, and finally the jock strap. The scent of Justin's sweaty balls and dick hit him, strong and dark, evocative of so many past pleasures. He tumbled Justin onto the bed to better breathe him in. He buried his nose in the tightly curling blond hair and took a deep breath. There was no other scent like this. He crawled to Justin’s armpit where the scent was sharper, less organic, and finally to his neck, where his natural odor so harmoniously mixed with the fragrance that had never smelled exactly right on that other boy.

Everything about the man in his arms was right. The way he fit there nestled against Brian’s chest, the feel of his skin and hair, his heady scent. “You smell so fucking good, Justin, so fucking good.”

After Justin had left, so calm, so composed, so damn right, Brian had wanted to hit his head on the upright in frustration with himself. His first faux pas, cried out in frustration, had been overlooked, so why had he had to compare his silly pride to something so grievous it woke his lover at night screaming? And what a way to try to make it up to him, than to basically call him a whore! Fuck!

Of course once he’d berated himself long enough and by the time it had occurred to him to break his stupid fucking rule and go after the man he loved, his parking spot had been empty. Justin’s cell phone had been off, and he’d not answered his home phone. He was not at Ted and Blake’s (And now Ted was concerned as well, he should call him back…) and had not answered for two hours until he stumbled in, acting totally wasted.

Two hours is a hell of a long time when you have no idea if you have lost your lover for good. It didn’t really help to know how much Justin loved him, because Brian believed Justin smart enough and strong enough to call it off if he felt the relationship was too toxic. Brian had searched his heart for the ultimate truth, for the right things to say, were he ever given the chance to.

Admit his fuck up, and apologize. When would he ever learn to argue like a grown up? Tell him how important his love was, so much more than the rest. And tell him it was returned. Basically, do everything that would send Brian Fucking Kinney around the bend. That Brian would have put his jacket on and go to Babylon to get fucked up and have his dick serially sucked. And it had been damn tempting to do so.

Brian had poured himself one generous drink, and had thought back to the week when he’d believed he may have had testicular cancer, the thought of a knife removing such a vital part of him, of the killing drugs in his veins, of his hair falling out by the handfuls and the radiation burning the area, creating more dangerous mutations as it cleared one up. He had thought of cancer cells coursing through his bloodstream to easily attach themselves to his dirty lungs, to his liver taxed by alcohol and drugs, his struggling kidneys, of dying, emaciated, diseased, leaving his child fatherless.

Then he had thought of the previous Friday night, when JT and he had fucked too many times to count, talked about Clenet Automobiles, of the new all-electric Quimera sports car, and of Andy Warhol, and had made up a kick ass commercial jingle for the French guillotine. He had felt his heart wither at the thought of never having evenings like that again, or mornings like last Saturday, when Brian had bottomed from the top to bring them both to that place where pleasure is balanced on the edge, where the body is soaking in bliss and ready to dive into orgasm, and kept them there, poised and burning for the longest time, until he’d given the last motions to Justin, to better savor the coming release. It had felt so good, so right, so encompassing, the sweeping climax rushing out of him onto their joined stomachs that tears had sprung from his eyes at the perfection of it. No amount of alcohol, of drugs, of ordinary fucks could ever replace that.

So he had composed what he was going to say to Justin the next time he saw him, whenever that would be. As he held the lithe body closely against his own, looking into the blue eyes he could drown in, feeling his love for Justin like a live entity in his breast, he knew it was the right time.

“You were absolutely correct earlier. I was unfair. I’m… sorry. And your heart is worth more than anything else. It is the only thing that matters, really. I…I love you. You have my heart.”

Justin’s smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He pulled Brian down for a kiss, a sweet gentle kiss of love and gratitude, that recognized how much such a simple statement meant coming from Brian.

“Thank you.” He smiled again, and added softly, “But I meant what I said. I may not be able to give you everything I wish I could, everything you want and deserve, but what I am able to give to you, I will no longer give to anyone else. From now on, it will be yours, alone.”

He added with a grin, “I was disappointed that we hardly ever seemed to be in the backroom at the same time anymore, because I so love to watch you fuck. You are so beautiful when you fuck. Now I know why and I have something to look forward to: getting a blowjob as I watch you fuck a trick.”

“God, Justin. I… It’s fucking embarrassing to admit how… selfishly happy I am that you are willing to do this. I’ll make it up to you as often as I can, in any way I can.”

Justin bit his lower lip, and spoke to Brian’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind if you decided to try and manage without Kyle…”

“You never have to think about Kyle again. That was a rather pathetic move on my part and it kills me to know how much it hurt you. Kyle is back to being just a Fahrenheit-smelling dishwater blond twink. There will never be another Kyle. Truly, Justin, if I can talk to you sometimes about how frustrated I cannot help but feel and be open with you about how I occasionally wish things could be, and you understand I am not trying to pressure you, but just need to express it somehow, then what you do give me is all I’ll ever need…”

Justin sighed, “Sadly, I’m not giving you anything more tonight.” He grinned at Brian. “Listen well, because you’ll never hear this again, but I’m afraid I’m too tired to fuck…”

They chuckled. “Now seriously, take me for a hot shower and put me to bed. I’m so tired, I’m chilled.”

Indeed Justin’s body felt cool under the hot water, as Brian lovingly shampooed, soaped and rinsed him. He made quick work of his own shower, and then dried Justin with a heated towel. They brushed and flossed, Justin looking as if every motion cost him. He drank several cups of water and Brian all but carried him to bed. Justin lay on top of him, his body still feeling cooler than Brian’s, his breathing immediately starting to take on the deep rhythm of sleep.

“How did you get so wiped, you silly twat?” asked Brian, not really expecting an answer.

In a faraway voice, Justin explained, “Some guy on a motorcycle chased me and tried to brain me with a baseball bat…”

“What? WHAT? Justin! What did you say?” Brian could not have heard that right. What the fuck? But Justin was dead asleep. Shit! Some guy on a motorcycle chased him and tried to brain him with a baseball bat? God! He could have lost him. He buried his face in Justin’s still damp hair, caressing his neck, his shoulders, the top of his arms, loving him, loving him so fucking much.

The love of his life might have died tonight, bashed, and Brian would never have told him he loved him… He ran his fingers through the blond hair, on the soft temple, on the edge of the ear. He would have wondered for the rest of his life if Justin had ever meant to come back, and would have hated himself forever for having made him go, for having let him leave. Thank you, God or …whatever. Thank you for him.

In his relief, his delayed fear, once again, he desperately wanted to make love to Justin, to feel him at his most alive, to hear his voice as he lost control. But not like they always made love, with Justin taking him. He wanted to make love like, in his heart of hearts, he could never help but want… Justin’s hip was pressing on his swollen cock and Brian allowed himself to dream, imagine a reality that could never be.

It would be morning…

It’s morning already, the pale light of dawn, and you wake up first, wanting Justin as you always do. You caress his warm shoulders, play with his hair, and gently roll, holding him, so he lies on his back and you hover. He’s awake now, the big faker, his smile betrays his closed eyes, and so you kiss his lips. They’re warm and dry. You kiss his round tipped nose, because you love to kiss his round tipped nose, though you always pretend you’d never do such a juvenile thing. He smiles wider, and you kiss him again, but this time you bite lightly on his lower lip until the tip of his tongue comes out to meet yours. He is manic with his oral hygiene, and has made you so self conscious with his total lack of morning breath that unbeknownst to him, you sleep with a piece of chewing gum in your mouth. You chew it and swallow it when you wake up, just so you can do what you’re doing now, caress his sweet tongue with yours and visit his welcoming mouth. You love to kiss him in the morning, start the day in this gentle loving way.

Then you kiss his jaw and go to his neck and he arches his back because he’s a slut for the way your tongue massages the muscle from his ear to his collarbone, pressing here and there and licking and sucking… He would have you stay there all day… He moans his disappointment when you travel further down, but forgives you when you suck his nipples. Down you go, carefully avoiding his navel, because he hates anything near his navel with a passion, but he loves little bites from his ribs to his hipbone and loves when your tongue is digging around his hipbone for a while. Then he sighs in contentment, and puts his feet together spreading his knees out for you.

This is your morning gift, his pale pink cock filling as you watch, straightening; the dark pink head swelling deliciously, the balls mysteriously shifting in their sack. You are in love with his cock. You run the top of your cheek, the part without stubbles, on its hot silkiness. You pass your closed lips along the edge of the head. You run the tip of your nose down its length all the way to the root and you nuzzle there, breathing in his morning musk. Down you go, further. His ball sack smells nuttier, his perineum like coffee grounds, and his entrance, pink and innocent, smells like leather and hot sand this morning.

Justin is like a cat, tediously clean. It’s puzzling when he has to run a file under his perfectly maintained toenails and fingernails every morning, or clean his ears with Q-tips much deeper than recommended after every shower, or brush and floss after every meal and every little snack… but much appreciated when caressing the star shape pink folds with one’s tongue… You listen to him sigh, he always sighs, and you dive in and he moans, because he loves this. He loves to be rimmed like some love to be sucked, will trade a rim job for a blowjob any day. You have made him come several times, literally screaming in pleasure, from rimming and tongue fucking alone…

He knows you know his weakness and he doesn’t hide his appreciation…

And this is where Brian’s fantasy really starts, where instead of preparing himself as he keeps rimming Justin, then sheathing Justin’s glistening cock and slowly lowering himself on it, he can fantasize about what he really wants…

You gently slip a finger in the warm narrow space your tongue has made love to and work it in and out gently, watching it sliding in, wanting, wanting… He pants, and purrs… You add lube, lots of lube to not hurt your beautiful lover, and two of your long fingers disappear in the tight channel. More lube and it’s three and you love the squelching sound, and you drum lightly on his prostate, as he taught you, and you feel him relax, ready, ready for you…

You put his ankles on your shoulders and the fit is perfect, the tip of your cock naturally dancing against his hole. This is your fantasy… If you had Justin, what would you need with anyone else? So in this imaginary world, your cock is bare and dripping with precome and anticipation. You hold it in place, and smiling at Justin, you slide in, and he smiles back at you, his eyes full of trust and love, as the pleasure hits. Tight, warm, moist, silken… You growl in satisfaction. There is no hesitancy in your thrusts, and he meets you and quivers with need for more, and faster, and deeper, and it’s heaven. Heaven, and he arches his back and comes, untouched, calling your name, crying out his love for you and you release your seed, deep inside him, deep in his warmth, and he is yours, and this is yours, forever, and no one else’s…

There was warm slick cum between Brian’s dick and belly and Justin’s hip, and it had felt so fucking good he couldn’t believe it. His heart slowed down, and he kissed the top of Justin’s head. They would be glued together in the morning, but he didn’t give a shit. He was not about to disturb him.

What had happened tonight? Why had someone tried to hurt him? Unless the man was acquainted with him, he could not have guessed Justin was gay. Justin was not effeminate, and his running clothes were grey and black. A random attack? To what purpose? Knocking him unconscious then what?

God. Oh, god… That woman, three weeks ago on the Heritage Trail, jogging alone at night, hit in the head and raped. Still in a coma at Allegheny Hospital, not expected to ever wake up, a piece of cranium embedded deeply in her brain tissue…

Brian felt sick. Rape was a crime of violence, not sexually motivated. The victims were victims of opportunity… He wondered if the police knew about the motorcycle and had held that information back, or if they didn’t. Was this only the second attack? Had there been others? If Justin had been raped, feeling as he did about anal penetration, even if the bashing had not killed him, he would have never recovered…

Never recover… PTSD… Anal penetration… RAPE. Suddenly Brian knew and he wondered how he could have not guessed sooner because it was so screamingly obvious… Justin was a rape victim. He had been raped and had never recovered from the trauma. Actually that wasn’t true. In every aspect of his life, Justin was open, confident, and able to trust, to form attachments, interested in everything… He had recovered wonderfully. He was able to have an amazing sex life, and until Brian came along, showed no sign of PTSD.

It wasn’t until someone Justin cared about, someone he very much wanted in his life had wanted to top him that it had reared its ugly head. Justin wanted to satisfy Brian. The guilt over the one solitary aspect of his rape he hadn’t conquered had awakened his dreams… Justin. Oh, Justin. Brian had never felt as much love for anyone as he did at that moment, and neither had he ever felt so loved.

He caressed the blond hair, and Justin let out a little purr of comfort in his sleep. His body had warmed up against Brian’s. Right now, his beautiful boy was warm, happy and comfortable. Brian smiled contentedly and fell asleep.
 

***********

Both the gang and his fuck buddies were a bit surprised on Saturday night when it seemed that Justin might not visit the back room at all. He’d gotten two blowjobs at Woody’s, challenged by poor out of town fags to play pool for a sexual favor. They’d hoped to have the little blond twink’s luscious lips around their cocks, the fools. Of course it had ended with them on their knees…

Their mistake was understandable, though. Justin looked so young and gullible…

Once at Babylon he danced almost all night with members of the gang. During one of his refreshment breaks, Bill came and asked for a quickie. For some reason Justin just couldn’t lie to him. Justin explained quietly that he had a boyfriend now, one who was a little jealous, and that they could be friends but would not fuck anymore.

“I thought you didn’t want a boyfriend,” said Bill looking crestfallen.

“I thought so too…”

Bill looked at him with longing in his eyes. “If you have a boyfriend, why can’t it be me, Justin? I…”

Justin put his finger on his lips to quiet him. “Don’t, Bill. I’m sorry. It just… happened.”

“You’ve been with your normal friends tonight. Where is he?”

“He’s not here tonight.” He was not going to out his and Brian's relationship to Bill…

“Then he wouldn’t know if we did have a quickie,” Bill pleaded. “I would be such a good boyfriend. We could fuck all the time, ’cause I like it as much as you do. I bet I like it more than he does. And you always tell me how good my ass feels. I bet it feels better than his… Please, Justin…” His beautiful chocolate brown eyes were filled with tears, and it broke Justin’s heart.

“I’m sorry, Bill, but I love him. You will make someone a great boyfriend, but not me. Remember, you wanted someone your own age? Someone to study with, and talk about college to?”

“I know what I said… But …”

Justin interrupted him again. “Can we be friends, Bill? Can you handle that?”

The teenager quickly wiped his eyes with the hem of his short shirt. “Yeah. Sorry, Justin. Yeah. We can be friends. Let’s dance together then, ok?”

“Sounds good.”

They danced and Bill made an effort to get over his disappointment and have fun. He was a great dancer. At the end of the song, he went back to his teenage friends after asking, “You’ll always save a dance for me, right?”

“Always. And you have my number. If you need anything, call me. I am your friend.”

“And if you break up with him, can I be your boyfriend?”

“I’m never breaking up with him. I really, really love him.”

“I hope he knows how lucky he is…”

Justin watched him walk away with a twinge of regret. Bill was such a sweet kid, and such a great fuck… Brian was just coming out of the backroom, with a satisfied look on his face. He smiled at Justin, and after downing a shot of J&B dragged him to the floor to dance.

They got kind of close, and Justin got hard against Brian’s thigh.

“I’m so fucking horny, Brian,” Justin said. Brian looked instantly guilty. Justin was sure he was thinking about how he had just fucked and how Justin could not, because of Brian's jealousy.

“Justin,” he started, and Justin knew he was going to tell him to go ahead, that it wasn’t fair…

Justin smiled at him, looking in his eyes, and rising on his toes whispered to him, “Yours, Brian. All yours.” They danced, close, lost in each others eyes for a while.

Justin was no longer the only horny one. Brian looked around at the guys in the crowd. Quite a few were watching him and Justin. He put his arm around Justin and approached a couple of twinks who’d been trying to get their attention.

“Backroom, now. One of you blows Justin while I fuck the other. If you do a good job, we switch at the end…”

The two guys smiled, and talked to each other on the way to the backroom. As soon as they got there, the tallest one dropped to his knees and unbuttoned Justin’s fly, freeing his hard cock. Brian was two feet away, already preparing the other, watching Justin as the guy on his knees started sucking him. He had an agile tongue, and knew how to keep his teeth out of the way. It felt very nice. Brian had put on a condom and was pushing into the other twink’s ass.

Brian’s eyes locked with Justin’s, and they never looked away, as the pleasure was mounting. The blowjob was so-so, but watching the sinuous motions of Brian fucking was so arousing, it made up for it. Brian reached over and cupped his cheek with his hand, caressing his lip with his thumb. Justin took the thumb in his mouth and bit the fleshy part lightly. Brian grunted and inadvertently came, saying, “Oh, shit…” It made Justin laugh. Brian pumped hard into the twink’s ass and jerked him expertly so he’d catch up. The twink lost it and sprayed come on the wall, wailing loudly. Brian popped out of his ass and took off the condom, looking at what Justin’s partner was doing.

“What the fuck,” he said, “Can’t you deep throat? Take him in all the way!” He pushed the guy’s head forward, forcing Justin’s dick down his throat. The guy gagged again and again as Justin’s cock was fucking his mouth. He sort of felt sorry for him but it felt so fucking good. Brian was uncaring, holding the guy’s head. Finally the guy found his rhythm and stopped gagging. Brian petted his head and did a quick check around the room for Emmett, and seeing no one of importance, leaned forward and kissed Justin voraciously. Justin loved the demanding tongue, the feel of Brian’s lips, the taste of bourbon and mint. He came in the twink’s throat, moaning in Brian’s mouth.

Brian backed off and smiled at him. He told the trick, “Swallow all of it and lick him clean if you want my cock up your ass…” The guy obeyed, gagging again, but managing Justin’s load. When he got up, he looked a mess, his face red and full of spit and tears. He wiped off on a come towel and told Justin, “Sorry, the head of your cock is the biggest I’ve ever sucked. I had a hard time.”

Justin smiled at him. “It felt fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Brian unbuttoned the guy’s fly from behind and pulled his pants down. The guy’s dick was flaccid. He really had had a hard time. Brian took the guy’s shirt off, and brought him against his front. He nuzzled his neck, tweaking his nipples and caressing his dick. The trick moaned and dropped his head on Brian’s shoulder. It was interesting to witness. Brian was going through the motions of arousing the trick completely clinically, not in the least involved.

Brian’s previous fuck was finally back from his post coital rush and asked Justin doubtfully, “You ready?”

Justin grinned and undid the top button of his pants, the only one he had bothered with, letting his renewed erection spring free. The guy looked at it, disbelieving. “But you just came…”

“Yes, and I’d like to come again sometime before Christmas. Get to work, big boy…”

He heard the guy mumble, “Holy shit!” as he got on his knees, and chuckled. Brian’s trick was hard and leaking by now, panting as Brian prepared him. Brian gave Justin a smile, and Justin smiled back as a hot mouth engulfed his cock. He sighed. This guy was much, much better at giving head than his friend had been. Brian pushed into his trick. Justin didn’t think he’d ever lost his erection. He fucked the trick within an inch of his life, the guy pressing both hands to the wall not to be smacked head first into it, and shouting, “Oh! Ooh! Oooh!” in appreciation of each thrust.

Justin’s trick adopted the rhythm of his friend’s pleasure for Justin’s deep-throating so that Justin and Brian’s were in sync. They looked at each other again, their eyes burning, and Justin loved it when Brian reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers. Brian’s trick came untouched and Brian closed his eyes and squeezed Justin’s hand as his orgasm was milked out of him by the guy’s reflexive muscle contraction.

He pulled out carelessly, took off the condom and tucked himself in. He squeezed some of that disinfecting gel from one of the hand pumps scattered throughout the backroom onto his hands twice, then, after again checking for Emmett, stood right next to Justin. He caressed his face.

“Feels good?” he asked intimately of the blowjob.

“Yeah…”

“I’m glad. You’re beautiful Justin. Your eyes are shining, your lips are pink, and you’re flushed with pleasure. I wish I were the one making you look this way. How close are you?”

“Very…”

“Good. I want to watch you come. You’re so beautiful when you come. You’re almost there; I can see it in your eyes… Your balls are tight, aren’t they…? Oh, you’ve got goose-bumps, it’s now… come, Justin, come, let the pleasure take you…”

Justin came, twice as hard as the blowjob warranted, so in love with the man holding his face in his hands and smiling into his eyes that he could not stop the words from tumbling out, “Aidan… Oh, god… love you…”

Brian kissed him, a long sensuous kiss, as the trick cleaned every last drop of his come with his tongue. He tucked Justin back in and stood up, grabbing his friend who was just finishing cleaning up, and kissing him hotly as well. Brian stepped away from Justin, who smiled.

“Let’s go back,” he said.

When they got to the bar, Theo was there. Brian left to go dance with Mikey.

“So it was you making out with Kinney as you got your cock sucked,” said Theo. “What was that all about?”

Sometimes Justin wished he could just tell the truth… he really liked Theo, and hated to lie to him. “He thought he would enhance my experience… He’s trying to convince me to let him fuck me… The kiss was nice. But what do you think his chances are of getting in my ass?”

“Uhhhh. Hmmm. Hard to say… somewhere between zero and none?”

“Ding ding ding ding! Give the man a cigar!” They both laughed.

“And what about you little fairy, how long a breather do you need before you get your cock in my ass?”

“Theo, you’re a fucking top. Why is it every time I turn around you're begging for my cock up your ass?”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? That cock of yours is addictive, I tell you. Just like crystal. Yep, the crystal cock. And even more amazing is the fact that you’ve subdued so many tops, it’s like being fucked by you in the backroom only reinforces one’s reputation as a top… Like, is so and so a top? Not sure… Have you seen him with Justin’s cock up his ass? Yes? There you go, he’s a top…”

Justin was laughing. He really liked Theo. God, he hoped they could be friends…

“Uh, Theo? I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news. Which one you want first?”

“Let me guess, you’ve had your fill for the night, but you’ll be back tomorrow night and you can fuck me then?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Bad news first then.”

“I’m retiring the crystal cock. I won’t be fucking in the backroom anymore. Just getting blowjobs. What I hope you'll consider good news is that I like you for other reasons than just your incredibly tight and hot ass. I want to hang out, if you’re willing. Be friends outside Babylon.”

“Wow.” Theo looked blown away. “What the fuck? How come the no-fucking rule all of a sudden? You OK? Healthy and everything? Well that’s stupid, obviously you are if you’re going to be shooting come down guys’ throats… So what gives?”

“Uh… Would you believe I gave up fucking for Lent?”

“In August…? And you a WASP right down to the fingernails? Nope. Try again.”

“I’ve developed an allergy. I’m being tested, but the doc thinks it’s to latex. So, since polyurethane and polyisoprene condoms aren’t effective against HIV transmission, that’s that, until the doc is proven wrong or until I meet Mr. Right and we can do it raw.”

“Oh fuck, Justin! That’s… Fuck! That really sucks! Oh my god. No more fucking around? Good god. Hey. I’ll suck your cock anytime, mate. That’s just too fucked up…”

“Yeah, well… Such is life. I had a good run while it lasted…”

“You are way more philosophical about it than I would be…” Theo suddenly looked a bit shy. He said, not quite able to meet Justin’s eyes, “Uh… Just wondering… If I stop fucking twinks and test negative in three months… any chance I could be Mr. Right, Justin?”

Holy crap! He had known Theo and he had a really good rapport, but that just totally blew him away… Oh, fuck! Now what?

“Theo, wow… That’s… that’s a really nice thing to hear. You sure know how to make a guy feel better.” He chuckled. “You actually had me going for a moment, you son of a bitch. And what would you have said if I confessed true love and swooned?”

Theo met Justin’s eyes, and realized Justin knew he’d been serious, and was just giving him a gracious way out.

“Shit. I guess I hadn’t really thought it through… That would have been awkward.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “But me? Giving up fucking twinks to be a bottom all my life? I knew you’d see right through it.”

They kept eye contact for a moment, then both smiled. The uncomfortable moment passed.

“Little fairy, I’d love to hang with you. What do you like to do outside of clubbing?”

They had a nice, easy conversation, laughing together. They made a date for a run on Monday after work. They’d do the Jail Trail loop. It was a 5.5 mile-run. If they felt good (And if JT wasn’t spending the evening with Aidan…) they could do the loop twice. They could talk more as they ran, and figure out what other interests they had in common.

Justin smiled to himself. In his line of sight, Bill had stepped up onto a podium and was doing this incredibly erotic dance, while eyeing some guy on the floor. It took a whole three minutes before the guy came and helped him down. They headed to the backroom. Good boy, Bill.

“Hey, Theo? Ever fucked Bill?”

“Who’s Bill?”

“That gorgeous black twink heading to the backroom right now…”

“Nope. Can’t say I have. Why?”

“Just between you and me? He’s the best fuck in Babylon. Bottom all the way, hot, tight, silken ass, gorgeous little bod, and the kid is so fucking sweet, you want to keep him as a pet. He loves to fuck, just loves it. I took him home once, and fucked him all night long. Fuck. Now I’m hard. Anyway. If you do fuck him, be nice. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Hmm. I thought he was too young to know his left from his right. I guess I’m going to have to talk to that gorgeous boy… Thanks for the tip. And I see some fresh meat over there. Pardon me as I go a-hunting. See you Monday, Justin.”

He left. Brian was still dancing with Mikey, but he obviously had been very aware of Justin’s conversation with one of his favorite fuck buddies. Their eyes met, and Brian, in that one look, managed to convey everything he was feeling. Gratefulness for Justin’s sacrifice, embarrassment for being so glad of it, concern that it was too much to ask, promise to try and make it up to him, and love, love, love. He may never declare himself again, but the warmth in the hazel eyes said it for him, and Justin could feel his lips stretch in his biggest smile.

Justin’s sleep that night was for shit. The dream seemed right there, just waiting for him to close his eyes to start torturing him. The fourth time he woke himself up with a racing heart and sweaty palms, he called it a night. He took a shower, and worked on the Wilmoor account. It was one of Sandy’s, and she had been kind of aimless and uninspired by it. They’d talked it through, and he’d decided to keep it himself and try to come up with something.

He researched the 17th century bulb madness in Holland, and had drawn some beautiful pictures of tulips when “it” struck, thanks to Theo. He drew a bulb with a baby fairy asleep inside it, and then a field of flowers with beautiful flower fairies playing over the blooms. It was visually gorgeous, and he loved his little baby, curled up in the fetal position inside the bulb with its thumb in its mouth. It was so damn cute, if he did say so himself…

Now he’d send it to Sandy and hope she could come up with a catchy phrase and a way to use his art. He wished Brian was handling the account because he knew Brian would come up with the perfect thing… Oh well. Sandy was good. It would be fine. It was 7:00 in the morning.

He did a bit of cleaning, scrubbed his bathroom, changed his sheets and did some laundry. Feeling the need to get out, he took his backpack, put three frozen ice packs in it and went to the store to get some milk, some lemons, and some floss. He walked all the way to Ted’s favorite Chocolatier and, not knowing what they liked, got him and Blake an assortment of the ones that sounded good to him. He walked to their condo and left it in the mailbox sitting on one of the ice packs, along with a quick note. “Thanks, Ted. You were right, of course. JT.” He went back home again and figured he would try to take a nap.

His weird schedule obviously threw his demons for a loop, because he didn’t wake up for five hours, the pillow of the couch wet with drool, and the imprint of the embroidery on his face. It was almost time to go to Deb’s for dinner. He took a cold shower because he was feeling all comatose from his extra long day sleep, dressed to make Brian drool, picked up his workout bag with his swim trunks for later and left.

Since he was going to swim for exercise and then bike soon after dinner, he really didn’t want to stuff himself with heavy, cheese-laden Italian fare. Luckily, Emmett had made a fabulous vichyssoise, and there was a great big salad filled with cukes, tomatoes, radishes, and spinach, fresh and delicious. He just happened to sit next to Brian, their legs touching from foot to hip, and it was ridiculous how happy that simple contact made him feel.

He was a little embarrassed until Deb said to Brian, “What are you so happy about?” and then he just felt like a million bucks. Brian’s laconic answer, “I’m just glad Emmett made soup and not muffins,” almost caused Justin’s spoonful of soup to go down the wrong tube. Everyone else looked at Brian expectantly, but he kept on eating, no explanation for his mysterious statement forthcoming.

At 7:30, Justin excused himself, explaining he’d promised Terry he’d work out with him.

“Work out? Is that what you call it these days?” said Michael, trying to be funny. Then he added, “It’s so weird how you only fuck tops…”

“Actually, Terry is training for a triathlon and I’ve been training with him. That’s swimming, biking and running. No fucking involved…”

“Wow, that’s cool. Is that why you’ve lost all that weight?” asked Michael.

All that weight? Hmm. If someone as oblivious as Michael noticed, it must be quite a bit. He promised himself to use the scale at the gym.

“Yeah, partly… Also, it’s too hot to eat, you know?” said Justin, brushing it off.

“Don’t lose any more, Justin!” said Emmett. It’d be a shame to shrink that bubble butt, even if it’s just for show…”

Justin chuckled. “For a bottom, you’re uncharacteristically focused on my ass, Emmett…”

“Well, it is gorgeous… and hey! I’ve been known to top, occasionally.”

“One time in 1994 doesn’t count, Emmett,” said Brian.

“Oh, ha-ha, Mr. Big Top. I‘ve certainly topped more often than you’ve bottomed…”

“Oh, I sincerely doubt that…” said Brian. Of course Emmett took that as a quip about how amazingly rarely he topped, having no idea Brian was referring to the many, many bottoming sessions he’d enjoyed in the past six months.

Both Ted and Blake laughed, and Emmett stuck his tongue out at them. “I am a big Nelly bottom and proud of it, but if Justin wasn’t a friend, I would have tried to get into that ass just like everyone else. So there.”

Justin cracked up. “Well, I thank you for the endorsement, and with that in mind, I’ll take my leave. Debbie, thank you so much for dinner.”

Justin hated to leave without kissing the hell out of Brian, but he’d survive.

At the gym he swam hard, and biked harder. He felt nice and strong. He gave Terry his allergy story, and Terry offered to trade blowjobs. Justin smiled and demurred.

“You know what? I’d rather just do the workout thing with you. I’ve had many fuck buddies, but never a workout buddy, and I really like it.”

Terry smiled. “I’ve enjoyed it too, to tell you the truth. You’re fun to talk to, you know about so much shit. It makes time go really quickly. So, whatever you’re comfortable with is fine by me…”

They showered in the public showers and Justin headed home. He brushed and flossed as soon as he got in, remembering how complete his exhaustion had been last time. As he’d expected, he completely ran out of steam half-way through folding his last load of laundry, and he was glad he’d prepared for it as he crawled into his bed, oh, so pleased he didn’t have to climb a fucking ladder. He fell into dreamless slumber.

TBC...

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