Chapter 3
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel to | Sweet Redemption
Summary: The days leading up to the big `I do'.
Warnings: None
Author Notes: A thousand thanks to my sweet friend Kristina Grönberg for the title.
Spoilers: None
"That's almost a whole week," David said, leaning against the couch in his livingroom. He had that crease in his forehead that always meant he felt more anxious than he was letting on. "You were just in New York with him a few days ago."
"That was just overnight," Michael said. "And we were looking for Justin. It wasn't . . . you know, a vacation or anything." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and tried to smile. "If you really don't want me to go, David, I'll just tell him no. But . . ."
"No, no," David said. "I don't mean to be like that. I'm not saying I don't want you to go. You've never been to Europe and this is a great opportunity." He stepped forward and took Michael's face in his hands. "I just wish you were going for the first time with me. I think that's what's really bothering me. I want to be the one to show you the lions in Trafalgar Square and listen to Big Ben chiming on the hour."
Whenever David talked about Europe, Michael always felt like melting. He made it sound so exotic and seductive.
"We're only going to London," he said. "I promise to reserve the rest of Europe for you."
David kissed him softly. "As long as you promise to behave, I'll be happy."
"It's just Brian," Michael said, as though that would serve to quell any of his boyfriend's suspicions. Instantly, he could tell David was not the least bit quelled.
"I'll try not to think about that," he said.
Michael opened his mouth, thinking he should elaborate and try to ease David's mind but instead, David kissed him again. And then again. After the third kiss, Michael decided to quit while he was ahead. David had agreed to let him go on the trip with Brian and he knew well enough to just leave it at that.
But as David pressed him back against the kitchen wall with his urgent, possessive kisses, Michael was already looking forward to walking along the Thames with his best friend. Maybe even sharing a little kiss as that fabled English fog rolled in over the river . . .
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Brian:
Sunday night the boys convened at Michael's and Emmett's apartment to help Michael pack.
"It's just a few days, Mikey," Brian mumbled. He was stretched out on the bed intentionally keeping his long legs in the way of Michael's neatly folded piles of clothing. "You're bringing everything you own."
"I don't know what to bring!" Michael whined. "Do we even know what the weather's going to be like?"
"Let's look on the Internet," Ted suggested. He'd been leaning in the doorway of the bedroom and presently he walked over to Michael's desk to turn on the computer. "Doesn't it rain there constantly?"
"It only does that for Midwestern tourists," Brian said.
Ted shot him a look over his shoulder.
"I'm a Midwestern tourist," Michael said, his dark eyes round. "Is it really gonna rain the whole time?"
"Mikey," Brian sighed. "So what if it does? Bring an umbrella and some rubber soled shoes and stop worrying."
"That's another thing! What the hell am I going to wear to that fancy party?"
"You'll wear whatever I buy you when we get there." Brian said this last quietly, holding Michael's gaze.
"Buy ME something," Emmett said. He was stretched across the foot of the bed like an extravagant hood ornament, dressed in a close fitting white t-shirt and black shiny pants. The t-shirt he wore had silver letters across the front that read "Twisted Sister". A fluffy black boa adorned his neck, its tiny feathers billowing gently as he spoke. "I'd die to go shopping in London. I bet that have unbelievable second hand stores. Get me something, okay?" He batted his eyes at Brian playfully.
"If you blow me," Brian teased.
"Ew. Forget it." He smacked Brian's foot. "I know way too much about where your dick's been."
Brian's cell phone chirped in his pocket just as the dial-up on Michael's computer began to whine and whir.
"Ah, the symphony of technology," Ted quipped.
Brian took his phone out and answered it, not bothering to read the caller ID. "This is Brian." The connection was clear but echoey and he could hear the sound of giggling--Stuart's unmistakable giggle--and wind rushing. The boys must be in the car. "Hello?" he said.
"Hiya," Vince said and he was clearly laughing, too. "How are ya, Brian?"
"Good. Haven't talked to you guys since I came back. I thought we were off limits."
"Nah, I never said that. You and Stuart are so bloody dramatic."
More giggling and wind rushing and Brian covered his other ear so he could hear them more clearly.
"What are you guys doing? It's late there."
"We--Stuart, stop it--we just came from dinner with my mum and Romey. Remember, you met Romey. Alfred's mother."
"I remember."
"Yeah, well, we've just come from dinner with them. I'm afraid we're a bit pissed. We drank a lot of wine. Stuart!"
Brian chuckled as he listened to Stuart murmuring and giggling in the background. He obviously was trying to get the phone away from Vince and they were having a playful struggle.
"Are you guys in the car?" Brian asked.
"We're just pulling into the car port at the flat," Vince said. "What are you doing?"
Grinning, Brian said, "well, I'm lying on my best friend's bed trying to keep him from packing everything he owns into his suitcase."
"You're not on your own, then," Vince said, his voice sandy and flirtatious.
"No, unfortunately," Brian purred in response. "But I thought we weren't allowed to play together anymore. Have you changed your mind?"
"I never said that, either," he said. "I think you and my boyfriend misunderstood me."
Glancing up, Brian saw Emmett whisper to Michael. "Are they still having phone sex?" he asked.
Michael shrugged. Ted rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the computer.
Emmett looked at Brian and whispered comically "do you want to be alone?"
Brian flipped him off.
"Brian?" Vince said and a huge burst of static made him lean away from the phone for a second.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Are you coming to the party at Claridge's?"
"I am. Are you coming with Stuart?"
"Yeah," Vince said. "Can't very well let him run off to meet you at a posh hotel without me, now can I?"
Brian chuckled. "You're just a bundle of contradictions tonight, aren't you, Mr. Tyler?"
Vince laughed and Brian could hear Stuart insisting he hand over the phone.
"Can I talk to Stuart?"
"Will you be good?"
"I have to be, I have three other people in the room with me." Brian batted his eyes at Emmett who was still listening to his conversation with great interest.
"Oh, don't mind us," he said. "Beat off at will."
"Some other time," Brian said.
"What?" Vince asked him.
"Sorry, I was talking to one of my friends. Is he there? Stuart? I can hear him laughing."
"He's here. But I don't want you to talk to him."
"Okay . . ." Brian couldn't help grinning and he felt Michael's eyes on him. He didn't look up. "Then why did you call me if I can't talk to Stuart?"
"I just wanted to know for sure you'd be at Claridge's," Vince replied.
"I'll be there. Kate will, too. And her husband. And me and Mikey."
"Sounds like a party."
"Could be. We'll all go out to dinner or something. Vince?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I just say hi really quick?"
There was a long pause on the other end and then Stuart was on.
"Hey," he said in his fantastic brogue. His voice was always gravelly and raw when he was drunk. "What're you wearing?" He started giggling immediately.
Brian breathed a laugh and closed his eyes, picturing Stuart's face and savoring the texture of his voice. Brian could clearly imagine the sexy Irishman's lean, supple body, his silky skin and his thick, hard cock stretching up his belly. "Do I get to see you on Wednesday?"
"Oh, you'll see me all right. You can't miss me." He laughed. "But I can't shag you. Vince won't let me."
"Bummer. Can we at least make out?"
"Nope."
"I can't even touch you?"
"No, you can't. But we can look at each other," Stuart cooed.
Groaning, Brian said, "I'm soaking my shorts just thinking about it."
Emmett opened his mouth and stuck his finger in it, mock gagging. Brian shoved him with his foot, unbalancing his delicate position. When he moved his arm back to stabilize, he found no more mattress to grip and went toppling off the end of the bed. This made Michael laugh even as he went around to make sure Emmett hadn't been hurt.
"Who's there?" Stuart asked, hearing the laughter on Brian's end.
"Some friends. I'm bringing Michael over there with me. We're helping him pack."
Stuart sighed into the phone and Brian's cock twitched at the mere sound of that rough breath.
"Shhh," he warned. "Please don't do that."
"Brian . . ?"
"What, baby?"
Stuart sighed again and that time Brian shook his head. "You HAVE to not do that. I'm going to hang up, okay? It's killing me to talk to you when I can't jerk off. You guys have a good night. I'll see you in a few days."
"Brian . . ." he said, his tone a seductive whine.
"What?" he softly insisted.
Then the line went dead.
Looking at the phone hatefully, Brian shut it off and shoved it back into his pocket. "Whatever," he muttered.
Michael was helping Emmett scramble back up onto the bed. Looking at Brian reproachfully, Michael said "you could have hurt him."
"No I couldn't have. Disco trash bounces."
"Fucker," Emmett said and then crawled up on the bed and pounced on Brian, rolling him over and tickling him relentlessly. As they laughed and struggled, destroying any semblance of order Michael had created with his folded clothes, Ted cleared his throat and they all looked over at him.
The computer screen was lit up with a colorful display of a huge weather front moving across the Atlantic toward Europe.
"Holy shit," Michael said, walking over to look at the screen. "Is that a storm?"
"Looks like rain, kiddo," Ted said. "Better bring your wading boots."
Brian frowned at the image on the screen while Emmett shifted on top of him, their tickling outburst ebbing away. He had lodged himself between Brian's legs and he wiggled back and forth gently, pressing his belly against Brian's slight erection.
Looking down, Brian's brow wrinkled irritably but he didn't move.
Emmett whispered to him. "I'm assuming that's not for me."
Brian rolled his eyes and tried to get up, but Emmett kept him down. He whispered again. "You like this guy, don't you? This Brit."
"Not that it's any of your business, but I like fucking him. He can give me a hard-on just from breathing down the phone. So what? Get off me, you big nelly fag."
Emmett chuckled as he rolled aside. "I think our Brian's in luuuuuvv."
"Fuck you. You have no idea what you're talking about." He got up and walked over to the computer, resting his hand on Michael's shoulder as he stood watching the screen. "Looks bad, Mikey."
"It's gotta be dangerous to fly in that!" he said anxiously. "We'll crash or something and drown in the icy water of the Atlantic Ocean."
"I'm sure we'll be fine," Brian said. "But we're gonna get wet in London. Pack accordingly."
Michael looked up at him with those big trusting dark eyes. "Did you get to talk to Stuart?"
"For a minute. They were drunk so Vince was in the mood to torture me. He dangled Stuart like a ripe carrot and then hung up on me."
"See?" Emmett teased. "Sounds like love to me. That's as close as Brian's ever got to being poetic."
Ted chortled. "Michael, you'll have to give us a full report on the man that's stolen what there is of Brian Kinney's heart."
"It's not my heart he's interested in," Brian said.
"Well, it's certainly not your scintillating wit," Ted returned.
Emmett laughed. "Now, now girls. Play nice or we'll have to separate you."
Deciding to take the high road, Brian changed the subject. He kissed Michael on the temple and gave him a cuddle. "A little rain never hurt anyone, Mikey. Besides, it's in character for the city. It'll add charm to our trip. Don't worry."
Michael let himself be hugged and rested his head on Brian's chest. "If you say so."
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Vince:
"That was rude hanging up on him," Stuart said, sitting with his arms folded in the passenger seat. His brow was creased with irritation. "Why ring him and let us talk if you're just going to hang up?"
Vince sighed, pocketing the phone again. He didn't really have an answer. He was drunk and feeling silly and mischievous and he knew he had no excuse. "I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking. I just got jealous when I heard you bein' all flirty with him."
Stuart opened the passenger door and got out, slamming it behind him. Locking the car and setting the alarm, Vince followed his lover as he stalked across the carport toward the stairwell. He knew better than to try to catch up. Stuart had to have his tantrum and get it out of his system.
True to form, the brunette preceded Vince up the stairs and yanked the flat door open, stomping across the floor on his way to the bedroom. Vince closed the door and locked it for the night, then went into the kitchen for a drink of water. He could see Stuart up in the bedroom taking off his clothes with angry, sharp gestures and then he stomped into the bathroom to take a quick shower like he always did before bed. Vince left him alone and went about his business in the kitchen.
After turning off all the lights in the flat, he came up to the bedroom with a bottle of cold water and proceeded to get undressed. He could hear Stuart in the bathroom brushing his teeth. A few moments later, he came into the bedroom wrapped snugly in his fluffy white terry robe. The ends of his black curls were damp from the shower and he looked a bit more calm.
Stuart sat on the bed beside Vince and shoved him gently with his body.
"Am I forgiven?" Vince said.
"No. Twat." Stuart crawled up to the pillows and fluffed them against the headboard. He sat looking at Vince with his chin lowered, still frowning slightly. "Why did you hang up on him?"
"I told you, I was jealous. I said I was sorry."
"I want you to ring him back and tell HIM you're sorry."
"Do you?" Vince said, his tone slightly playful.
"Yeah." Stuart wasn't playing at all.
"Well, I don't want to." He stood up and took off his trousers, hanging them up in the closet. Next he took off his shirt and tie, keeping Stuart clearly within his peripheral vision. Just as he'd expected, his lover reached over the bed for the phone on the night table.
"If you call him, I'll leave," Vince said, turning around. He regarded Stuart seriously. "I am not joking. I'll walk right out that bloody door and never come back. You can explain it all to the wedding guests next week."
"I want YOU to call him, Vince. Here." Stuart held out the phone and waited, his expression set like stone.
"I've said no." Vince turned back to the closet and finished removing his underwear. Once he was naked, he walked around the corner to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He heard Stuart get off the bed and then his footsteps padded into the bathroom behind him.
"I'm dialing his number," Stuart said.
"I'm not speaking to him. And if you do, I'm out that door." Vince's tone was calm but deadly serious as he reached for the toothpaste on the shelf over the sink. Adrenaline dumped into his body and he started shaking a little. He glanced at Stuart who had finished dialing the numbers and was holding the phone to his ear waiting for an answer. They stared at each other, eyes full of challenge.
Vince could hear when Brian picked up. The bathroom was quiet and his voice was clearly audible through the receiver. Stuart handed the phone over without saying anything into it.
"Hello?" Brian asked again as the phone hung in the air between them.
Vince sighed and took the receiver angrily. "Hello? Brian?"
"You again," Brian said teasingly. "What are you going to do now, cuss me out?"
"No." Upon hearing Brian's voice and his playful, forgiving tone, Vince sighed and leaned against the counter with the phone to his hear. "I--I'm sorry about that, mate. I was just acting like a bloody twat. It was stupid. Sorry."
Brian laughed softly. "Dude, I don't care. You're drunk, anyway. Drunk people are never blamed for acting like idiots. It's in the rule book."
Vince smiled sheepishly. "Right. Well, thanks. That was all. Stuart made me ring you and apologize."
Still chuckling, Brian said "no problem. See you guys at Claridge's."
"Yeah. See ya then." He hung up and handed the phone back to Stuart.
"Thank you," he said smugly, taking the phone and going back to the bedroom.
Rolling his eyes, Vince turned back to the basin to brush his teeth. His hands were still trembling.
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Stuart:
Vince came to bed a few minutes later. Stuart was stretched out under the comforter naked after dropping his robe on the floor. He knew that crabby old woman that lived inside Vince would say something about it and he wasn't disappointed.
"What, you can't hang this up?" he said peevishly, bending over to pick up the robe.
"Leave it," Stuart said, suppressing a chuckle. "Just come to bed, Vince. I need you to kiss me really hard."
Sighing, Vince hung the robe over the edge of wardrobe door then he crawled under the comforter. He laid on his side for a moment just watching Stuart in the dim light from the bathroom.
"What?" Stuart said, whining slightly.
"No snogs `til you tell me I'm forgiven."
"For fuck's sake! You're forgiven. Come here." He slid forward under the comforter and pressed his naked body against Vince's. His lover's skin was warm and satiny and Stuart curled up close. "Kiss me?" he whispered.
"You're impossible, you know that?" Vince said, wrapping his arms around him. He rolled over, pressing Stuart onto his back. "One minute you're angry as a wasp and the next minute you want me to shag you blind. I'm almost certain you'll drive me mad by the time I'm 40."
Stuart giggled. "I didn't say shag me. I said kiss me. Really hard." He laced his fingers around Vince's neck and pulled him down, chewing his pouting bottom lip.
Vince's fingers wound into Stuart's hair at the back of his neck and he started with a soft, wet probing kiss. His tongue slid against Stuart's, teasing all the sensitive spots. As he gently nursed on Stuart's lips, he breathed in and pulled the air in Stuart's lungs out, making him deliciously lightheaded. Vince laid all his weight on Stuart's body then ground their mouths together until their teeth were touching through the flesh of their lips. Stuart's cock swelled and tingled as he rubbed against his lover's warm belly and he moaned appreciatively.
"How's that?" Vince growled in his ear. "Hard enough?"
"Harder . . . please . . . and give me a tight squeeze . . ."
Vince covered his mouth again and sucked his lips roughly. His hands slid down Stuart's sides, tickling his ribs gently until he reached his buttocks then he pushed his hands between Stuart's skin and the soft sheet, squeezing the warm, tender flesh firmly. Stuart wrapped his legs around Vince's waist in response, his cock growing even harder. He didn't want to be fucked, he just wanted to be squished with affection and kissed to the point of fainting. He felt Vince's cock hardening against him and he moaned again.
With his tongue battling Stuart's inside his mouth, Vince reached further down to squeeze Stuart's thighs. He did this just enough to raise the sensation--just to the edge of tickling--and then he stroked them with the pads of his fingers. All that while he continued to attack Stuart's lips and tongue, feasting on his mouth hungrily.
"Oooohh . . . . yes!" Stuart giggled, his hips working almost unconsciously to rub his cock against Vince's body. He was all about pleasure that night, his body burning with lust after talking to Brian even if it was only for a few seconds. He wanted to be touched everywhere roughly--rubbed and kissed and bitten. He kissed Vince deeply, greedily, knowing they would both be swollen and bruised the next day and not giving a toss.
Vince bit his earlobe and tore at it with his teeth until Stuart shivered. "Do you want a spanking?" he purred, his fingers still kneading Stuart's buttocks and thighs.
"No . . . I just want to make out and rub against you . . ."
"Is the squeezing good?"
"Yesss . . . it's lovely . . . perfect . . ." Stuart's fingers gripped Vince's arms as they kissed and gnawed each other. He loved the way Vince's muscles felt as he moved and shifted on the bed, holding himself up one minute then mashing their bodies together the next. He loved the deep guttural sounds and the ragged sighs coming from deep inside his lover's throat. Vince wrapped his arms around Stuart's lower back and pulled him into a full-body hug, squeezing him so tight he almost cried out--but it was perfect. Just what he wanted. Stuart's entire body hummed with sensation and he felt his cock begin that telltale tingle.
Still kissing, Vince reached under the pillow and grabbed the bottle of lube. He raised up briefly and squirted some of the slick fluid onto the tip of Stuart's cock. Just enough so they would slide on each other. Wiggling his hips, Vince distributed the lube with his hard cock, slicking Stuart's erection with his own while he roughly kissed his mouth.
Back into that clamped embrace, they ground against each other--cock on cock, lips mashing together, tongues battling lovingly in the wet confines of their mingled mouths. They breathed in ragged gasps, pumping into each other until they were both shuddering and moaning and spilling seed into the tight space between their bodies. They were wet with fluids--lube, spunk, sweat--and both struggling to catch their breath.
Lying in a heap of tangled limbs under the warm comforter, they fell asleep. Neither of them moved until the alarm went off the next morning.
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Vince:
Tuesday afternoon, he stood in front of the wardrobe naked and freshly showered trying to take deep breaths and remain calm. God, he hated to fly--even the quick jaunt from Manchester to London made him want to run and hide in the corner and never come out. Not to mention, the added stress of where they were going and who they were going to see.
Vince sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The air in the bedroom felt cool on his skin and he knew he should get dressed so they could leave for the airport. But his stomach was roiling anxiously and he couldn't bring himself to move just yet.
Stuart came into the bedroom and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Vince's naked body and hugging him gently. "All right?"
"Think I might puke."
"Want a soda?"
"No. Thanks." Vince leaned back and took another deep breath. "I'm just scared of the flight."
"Mm." Stuart kissed his neck soothingly then moved away from him to go into the bathroom. Vince heard him open the cabinet above the sink and then he came back with a prescription bottle. "Take one of these, luv. It'll help you relax." He opened the lid and shook out a good size pill, placing it in Vince's hand.
"What is it?"
"Vicodin. I'll get you some water." Stuart went back to the bathroom and filled a glass with a few sips of water. When he brought it back, Vince was sitting on the bed still taking deep breaths. "Here. Go on, then. I promise it'll make you feel good."
Without question, Vince took the glass and swallowed the pill with a few sips of water. He laid back on the bed and draped his arms over his eyes, trying to think of some way to calm down.
Stuart let him lie there for almost ten minutes, just waiting for the drug to work its way into his system. Then he heard Stuart rifling clothes in the wardrobe and next he felt his warm hands gently stroking his legs. Looking down, Vince saw his lover was slipping a pair of underwear over his feet.
"Can I dress you?" Stuart whispered, smiling at him sweetly.
"Yeah." Vince smiled back a bit weakly but he let Stuart pull the shorts up his legs.
"I love you in these," he said, softly stroking Vince's flaccid penis through the white cotton fabric of his favorite Calvin's. "I can just barely see through them . . ." He bent down and gave Vince a kiss on his nose. "It's so tantalizing seeing your beautiful cock like that . . . just the shape of it and the hint of your skin color . . . lovely." He went back to the wardrobe and took out a pair of black trousers and a dark brown sweater that fit really close. Stuart loved that sweater on him. Said it brought out Vince's `goldness'.
Sitting up gingerly, Vince let his partner put the sweater over his head and smooth it along his body. His caressing hands felt wonderful. Next, he wriggled the black trousers up his legs and fastened the button at the top. Stuart selected a comfortable pair of black suede Kenneth Cole lace ups and then Vince was dressed. Sitting on the bed beside him, Stuart took his hand and patted it gently.
"Better?"
The Vicodin was taking hold and Vince's limbs seemed to be warming with relaxation. "Yeah," he said. "It's nice."
"We'll get you a drink on the plane and then it'll REALLY be nice." Stuart giggled playfully. "You'll be up for anything then." He stood up and took Vince's brown leather jacket out of the wardrobe, then he closed it. "I reckon that's everything. The bags are down by the door and I've called for a taxi." He checked his watch. "The plane leaves in an hour and half so we're doing--" A honk from the street down in front of the building made him look up, then he smiled. "We're doing great. Right on time. Ready?"
"Ready as I'm going to get," Vince said, holding out his hand for Stuart to help him up.
They made one more check of the flat to make sure everything was locked and in order and then they went downstairs to meet the cab.
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Stuart:
Once they were in their seats and waiting to take off, the well- groomed, blonde flight attendant came by their seats.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said smoothly. "We'll be taking off for London Heathrow on time in exactly fifteen minutes. Can I get you a cocktail while we're waiting?"
"That would be lovely," Stuart said. "Could we have a vodka and orange and a gin and tonic?"
"Of course," she said. "Is there anything else you need?"
"That's all. Thanks." When she walked off down the aisle, Stuart reached over and cupped Vince's hand. "All right?"
"Mm. Fine," he said smiling. "I'm sorry we didn't think of this Vicodin thing before. It's quite nice. I'm completely calm."
Stuart giggled. "Yeah? Well, come here . . . you'll love this." He leaned forward slowly and traced his tongue along Vince's bottom lip, very softly, controlling the sensation with practiced finesse. When he felt Vince shiver, he grinned. "Hey? Nice, isn't it?"
Vince laughed, his cheeks flushing beautifully. "Blimey. This stuff makes you quite sensitive doesn't it?"
"It just relaxes you and puts you at ease," Stuart said. "The alcohol on top of it will make you very, very horny. You'll be climbing me by the time we land in Heathrow."
"Maybe I shouldn't have a drink, then," Vince said, his pupils huge and dark. "I don't want to be naughty."
"Oh, no," Stuart said in mock agreement. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"
The attendant returned with their drinks and two little napkins with the airline's logo printed on them. Stuart thanked her again and she informed them they would be taking off shortly. Vince took his drink and shifted in his seat so he was facing Stuart. He clinked the plastic glasses together.
"Cheers, luv."
"Cheers," Stuart said taking a sip. He watched Vince take two sips of his gin and tonic then he leaned over and kissed his lips, tasting the faint residue of lime there. They smiled into each other eyes and just sat there for a moment. "I want you to drink all of that, now. I expect you to be very relaxed when we get the hotel."
"Oh?" Vince said. "Why is that?"
"Because I plan to shag you senseless for the rest of the day until we're so hungry we have to leave the room for dinner. There's no way I'm going let you waste a good Vicodin high."
Vince laughed and took another sip of his drink. "Do you suppose he's there by now?"
Looking down into his drink, Stuart tried to hide the frown he felt struggling under the surface of his skin. "I don't know. I didn't get the chance to ask him what day he was arriving."
"Are Kate and Richard here already?"
"Yeah. They got in last night. She rang me from the hotel this morning."
"We should meet them for drinks."
"We will," Stuart said. "I'm very curious about her husband. I've only seen that one photo of him in her house--the one I told you about, where he was dressed it that bad golfing gear. He looked like a politician."
"I don't know," Vince said speculatively. "I have the feeling Kate's Richard is going to surprise you. He won't be anything like you imagine."
"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "We'll see." Smiling back in Vince's eyes, Stuart nudged him gently with his elbow. "Go on, then. Drink up. I want you to be putty in my hands."
Cheeks blushing like mad, Vince tipped his drink to his lips again.
**
The short flight went very smoothly for Vince--in fact, he spent most of the hour and a half with his head resting on Stuart's shoulder, murmuring naughty little suggestions into his ear. By the time they landed, Stuart's cock was itchy and full in his trousers and he couldn't keep his hands off Vince as they stepped out to join the taxi cue in front of the airport. Luckily, at that time of day on a Tuesday, the cue was relatively short. While they stood in line, Stuart pressed up against his lover and nuzzled his lips.
"I'm going fuck you all night . . ." he purred, his fingers toying with the soft hairs on Vince's belly.
"Mmm . . . I hope you brought enough lube . . ." Vince said impishly. "I feel like I could take you over and over again and never be satisfied."
Stuart kissed him deeply, feeling his cock swell and heat up against his belly.
The uniformed attendant organizing the taxi cue was obviously not pleased with their public display. He cleared his throat loudly to indicate they were next up for a cab.
Stuart gave him a cheeky smirk then grabbed his garment bag and took Vince's hand. They walked over to the black taxi and filed in, storing their bags on the floor in front of the seat.
"Claridge's please," Stuart told the driver and the taxi pulled away from the curb.
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