Chapter 5
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
One of my packages breaks just as I get out of the cab in front of the hotel. Of course, it's my Burberry bag and the new scarf I just bought Stuart goes spilling into the wet gutter. Story of my life, this shit!
I'm cussing and my hair's getting all wet and frizzy and I must look like a crazy woman when one of Claridge's doormen comes over to help me. He hovers over me with this big umbrella trying to keep the rain off the rest of my bags and I can see it in his eyes. He's thinking `who is this mad American woman and why can't she keep her packages under control?' He helps me into the lobby and over to a sofa near the window where I can put my belongings in order.
"Thank you so much," I say, instinctively reaching for my bag to give him a tip. He shakes his head and tells me it's his pleasure and then he asks if I wouldn't mind giving him an autograph instead.
I blink at him and then realize this baboon thinks I'm Kidman. Instantly I picture the morning headlines in the British tabloids: "NIC HAS FIT IN FRONT OF POSH LONDON HOTEL!!" This makes me laugh and it happens quite suddenly--the sound somewhat like the bark of an adult Pomeranian. The poor guy must really think I've flipped out now.
"No, no," I say. "I'm not Nicole Kidman. I'm just plain old Kate Stephani from Manhattan. But thanks for the compliment."
He blushes visibly and apologizes, which I think is even funnier.
"Believe me, honey. Mistaking me for Kidman is no reason to apologize. Are you sure I can't . . ." I offer him a few quid but he graciously refuses. Blushing like mad, he bumbles off and wishes me a good evening. Thanks to him, it will be.
I'm standing there frowning at the dirt on the Burberry scarf when I hear my husband's laughter coming from the far corner of the lobby. I turn around and see the sign over Claridge's Bar. What is he doing in there and who on earth is making him laugh like that? Quickly I scramble my stuff together and schlep over to the bar. There he is, sitting on a red stool with some dark haired guy--wait! That's not just some dark haired guy--it's Stuey! I have to know how they found each other, so I rustle all my purchases into the bar and sidle up to them.
"Hey! My two favorite men!"
Stuart jumps off the barstool and throws his arms around me, picking me up with the force of his hug. God, I love this guy.
"Katey-girl! I was wondering where you were." He kisses me and hugs me again and I'm just in heaven.
"Hi, bunny! I missed you so much. How the hell did you find my husband?" I give Richard a good kiss and a snuggle just so he won't feel left out. Not that he ever would. Richard is one of the most secure people I've ever met.
My husband tells me "we ran into each other in the elevator. I kidnapped him and made him sit in the bar with me for hours."
"So, you're telling me you're drunk," I tease.
"Yes," Richard says, grinning. "I'm quite drunk."
"Good for you. I need something to eat, though. I'm starving. Stuey, I bought you a present and it just got wet outside," I whine. "I have to have to have it cleaned now." I go to my bags and fish out the Burberry scarf, handing it to him as I pout at the stain. "The bag broke as I was getting out of the cab out front." I decide to leave out the bit about the doorman thinking I was Nic. That's personal to me for some reason.
Stuart looks at the scarf, strokes it with his lovely fingers because the wool is so soft. It's dark blue with little flecks of red in it and it looks gorgeous next to his skin. I knew it would.
"That'll come off easily," he says. "And it's lovely." He kisses me again. "Thank you for thinking of me. You know I'll wear it all the time."
"I hope so," I say and I do. "Come have something to eat with me, you guys. I'm sure you could both use a little food in your tummies."
"Fine," Richard says. "I'll get us a table in the restaurant. Stuart, do you think Vince will join us?"
"Actually, I should run upstairs and make sure he hasn't called the police to come find me. I'll be down in a minute, yeah?"
"And I want to take these bags up to the room," I say. "Honey, we'll meet you in the restaurant, okay?" I kiss Richard again because I can and I love kissing him.
"I'll get a table for four," he says, turning to the barman to settle the bill.
Stuart slips an umbrella under his arm that was sitting next to him on the bar and then he grabs half my packages. I grab the other half and we go back out to the elevators. While we're standing there waiting for the car to come to the lobby level, I just look at him. He's drunk and his cheeks are flushed which makes his dark blue eyes dance with color. He's still wearing his curls longish and that sweater he's got on is the perfect hue. Of course.
"How are you?" I say.
"Good. Very happy to see you." He kisses my cheek again. His lips are very hot. "Your Richard is quite a lad, isn't he? Not what I expected."
"I thought he might surprise you. And . . . have you seen whatshisname?"
Stuart giggles. "Nope. Not yet. Vince and I were shagging all afternoon and then I came down to get an umbrella from the gift shop. That's when I ran into Richard in the lift."
"Coincidence," I say, knowing that there's no such thing. Everything happens for a reason in this life.
The elevator doors open and we pile in with all my stuff. Stuart leans against the wall and presses his shoulder into mine, making affectionate contact. He's really happy to see me. I can tell.
"Excited about Saturday?" I ask.
"Very. Did you get a hat?"
This makes me laugh because I can't wait to tell him about the ridiculous drama I went through trying to find the right wedding hat in NYC. "Yes, I got a hat. Barely."
The doors open on the fifth floor and we trudge out and down the hall to our suite. I have to put everything down before I can dig in my Kate Spade for the key card. Finally I get the door open and we haul all the packages inside.
The light on the phone is blinking as we dump my stuff on the couch and chairs in the seating area. I pick it up and dial the code they gave me at the front desk so we could retrieve our messages. I discover we missed two calls--one from Richard's office and one from Brian. I look at Stuart while I listen to Bri's message.
"Hey. It's me," Brian said into the voicemail. "Mikey and I just got in and I'm going to take a nap. It's around noon. If you want, give me a call and we'll hook up for dinner. I'm in suite 312. Kiss Richard for me. Love ya."
I delete the message then ring suite 312. It takes four rings before the call is answered and the voice on the other end is groggy and scratchy--but it's not Brian.
"Hello?" the voice says.
"Uh, hi. Who's this?"
"Michael. Is this Kate?"
"Yes! Michael, hi! How are you? Did he give me the wrong room number--I was trying to reach Brian."
"No," Michael says, still sounding quite disoriented. "This is his room. I just . . . we got drunk on absinthe at dinner and I feel asleep on the couch in here. I . . . don't know where Brian is. Wait . . . he left me a note. Hang on."
I wait while Michael collects the note that I can somehow picture in my mind. Brian has this neat, architectural printing that reveals nothing about his personality. Or maybe it reveals a lot, depends on how you look at it.
"Oh," Michael says into the phone again. "He's uh . . . the note says `Went to see Vince. Be back later.' I guess he . . ."
"Went to see Vince," I say and Stuart's brow lifts. "Okay. Well, Richard and I were just going to get a table in the restaurant downstairs if you'd like to join us for a snack."
"Thanks," he says. "But I think I'm just going to go back to my room and crash. We'll see you guys tomorrow, though, right? A little sightseeing maybe?"
"Absolutely," I say. "That sounds like fun. Sleep well, Michael. Good night."
"Good night Kate. I'll tell Brian you called."
"Thanks." I hang up just in time to see Stuart walking out the door.
"Don't expect me downstairs," he says, giving me an odd little small smile.
Even though I know him pretty well, his expression tells me nothing about how he feels as the door closes behind him. So of course, I worry.
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Stuart:
Standing in the bedroom doorway in their suite, he tried not to breathe--not to make a sound. He wanted to watch undetected for as long as possible. He wanted to watch until he couldn't stand it anymore.
Brian had just slipped his cock up into Vince's body and they were kissing like mad, panting and petting each other. He could smell the musky aroma of their arousal and he took a deep but quiet breath.
He watched how Vince's fingers stroked through Brian's hair and how he lifted his hips up into Brian's thrusts, wantonly fucking him back. Stuart swallowed when he heard his lover moan--the ragged quality of it sent chills down his spine. Emotions swirled inside him and he felt lightheaded. Leaning against the doorjamb, he found he had to look away from them for a moment. As erotic as it was to see them together, the image of it still smarted considerably. This situation had started without his presence or consent and Stuart felt helpless.
It didn't take them long to finish. They must have been very close to coming when they started. Stuart stayed where he was, knowing they would see him shortly and his heartbeat began to race.
Vince had to ask Brian to pull out right away--his cock was huge and was no doubt an uncomfortable stretch. Stuart remembered that stretch well. Thinking about it made him slightly dizzy and his own cock twitched in his trousers.
As the two of them laid on the bed kissing and caressing each other, Stuart watched Vince's face. He seemed lost in Brian's embrace, greedily sucking at his lips and sighing into his mouth. Their connection appeared to be quite deep and Stuart felt certain he would explode from jealousy if he had to keep watching. Then Vince noticed him.
They both turned toward him in the doorway and Brian actually looked a bit nervous. Stuart felt completely conflicted and didn't know what to do or say. He just shook his head and started out the bedroom door.
"Bastards," he said almost to himself. "You're both bloody bastards." He walked into the living room of the suite and flopped onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. He knew they would come out and speak to him eventually, but he couldn't face either of them at that moment. To his surprise, a few moments later it was Brian who appeared first.
He walked over to the chair next to the couch wearing just his jeans and no shirt. The top two buttons were undone and Stuart could see the edge of Brian's soft light brown pubic hair peeking over the fabric. Almost unconsciously, he licked his lips. Emotional pain aside, he was still desperately attracted to this brash American.
Sighing, Brian sat in the chair and folded his long fingers over his naked belly. He regarded Stuart with a direct, unapologetic gaze and even offered a tiny smile. "Pissed off?"
"Cunt."
"Sorry," he said but it was obviously a knee-jerk response because he shook his head right after. "No, actually I'm not sorry. That makes it sound like I regret doing it and I absolutely don't."
"Brian, fuck off," Stuart said, wearily. "I don't want to talk about this now. I'm angry."
"You're angry? What about?" Brian asked evenly.
Stuart looked at him with flinty eyes. "You shagged my boyfriend without my permission. Didn't you spot that?"
Just as Brian was about to reply, Vince came around the corner into the room. He wrapped his robe around him and walked over to the couch, boldly sitting right beside Stuart.
"What have YOU got to say for yourself?" Stuart asked him coldly.
"Nothing," Vince replied. "Unless you want me to tell you what a great shag he was. But you already know that, don't you?"
Stuart's eyes narrowed. "Is that what this was? Payback?"
Vince shrugged. "Dunno, really. I wasn't thinking about it much. I just . . . saw Brian and wanted a shag and he was offerin'. That was pretty much all that was on me mind."
With Vince so close to him on the couch, Stuart could smell Brian all over his skin. It seemed like Vince knew this--like he was intentionally sitting so near and letting his robe fall open just enough to raise the subtle scent off his skin. In his heart of hearts, Stuart wanted to tear that robe off and bathe every crevice of Vince's body with his tongue. But again, he figured that was just what his lover wanted. Just what he was planning.
"Did you know I wasn't here?" he asked Brian accusingly.
"Yeah. I saw you downstairs in the bar with Richard when I came back from dinner. I figured Vince would be by himself up here so I stopped by."
"With the intention of fucking him?"
"With the intention of fucking him. Yes." Brian maintained that level gaze but it wasn't the least bit challenging. He was simply stating the facts.
"And you didn't think I'd be bothered by that?" Stuart insisted.
"I didn't really give it any thought," Brian said. "I just wanted to be with Vince. I actually had a craving for him, sort of like when I crave vanilla ice cream. Nothing else would do. You know how it is."
Vince glanced over at Brian and winked which further inflamed Stuart's mood.
"I can't believe you two twats!" he shouted. "You're just gonna sit there and act like this is perfectly all right, aren't you? Vince, I almost lost you when I shagged Brian. You expect me to just sit here and say this is all fuckin' fine?!!"
Shaking his head, Vince's lips turned up in a tiny smile. "You're being bloody thick, Stuart."
"WHAT?!"
"You're missing the entire point, aren't you?" Vince said. "This was all about you, anyway. Every second of it. All. About. YOU. Whether or not you were actually in the room, both of us were still making love to you."
Frowning incredulously, Stuart shook his head. "What the fuck are you on about?" He stared from one to the other of them, reeling with frustration because he knew he was missing something. Must have been all the vodka he drank downstairs with Richard. Stuart felt like he wasn't seeing something that was perfectly obvious to everyone else in the world.
"Brian wanted to be with you," Vince said, his voice calm and level. "He got into bed with me and licked every trace of you off my skin before he even kissed me."
"I asked you for a kiss," Brian said. "But you wouldn't give me one. And when you finally did kiss me, you intentionally wounded my lips." Brian's tongue flicked out over his slightly swollen lips, the tip of it touching those two little bite marks Vince left behind.
Stuart watched every tiny movement of Brian's tongue with great interest, feeling his own tongue track along the inside of his lips. "You bit him?" he asked Vince, his mind flooding with images of the act.
"Yeah. Twice." Vince smirked at his conquest and then giggled. "But not before he cleaned every bit of your taste off my skin. He wanted you, Stuart. And having me was almost close enough."
"And you? What was your excuse?" He felt more calm emotionally, but his senses were driving him mad registering all the luscious smells and sights in the room. Glancing down he saw that Vince had opened his robe a bit more, showing the soft line of golden hair on his nicely muscled belly. Stuart almost smiled at the calculated gesture. If there was one thing he could say for Vince, it was that he knew Stuart like the back of his hand.
Vince seemed to be considering his reply carefully. After a long moment, he finally answered. "I keep thinking of you two in the Jeep that night when you ran off," he said. "The image of that--how you must have been all twisted and tangled--just won't let go of me. I guess I just wanted to know what you were feeling having Brian like that. I reckon I thought it would explain some things to me. And . . . well, frankly, I really fancy him. All the times we've been together, he and I never . . . well, he never had me. I reckon I was a bit curious about that, as well." He looked up at Stuart with his pretty blue eyes full of innocent love. "Luv, I didn't think you'd mind this much, truthfully. I . . . I'm sorry. I guess I misinterpreted the rules, even though I made most of them."
Sighing reticently, Stuart reached out and softly pet Vince's exposed tummy. The skin was warm and silky and still slightly flushed from sex. Something occurred to him as he sat there with his hand on his lover's body, feeling his heart beating steadily. He looked in Vince's eyes and lowered his voice, speaking just for him to hear. "You're not panicking, are you? There's only three days left `til the wedding."
At first Vince just stared at him, then he looked down and smiled sadly. "No," he said. "I'm not panicking. I love you more every day and I'm not the least bit afraid to marry you. I've always wanted to marry you. I just . . ." he shook his head. "I don't know, Stuart. This really felt like the right thing to do at the moment. I never had a second thought about it. I suppose that's mad, but it's the truth."
"And now how do you feel?" He reached up and slowly untied the sash on Vince's robe, letting it fall open around his sides. His eyes flitted up to Brian who was watching them very closely. Stuart felt his gaze palpably when they looked each other. It was like a giant lock shifting into place.
"I reckon I'm concerned that you're so upset," Vince said. "That wasn't my intention. I wasn't trying to get you back or anything, I just . . ." He looked at Stuart openly, sweetly. "I just wanted him."
Looking in Vince's eyes, Stuart could see he was telling the truth. Those beautiful pale blue eyes that always regarded him with so much unconditional love and patience--those eyes watched him at that moment with trepidation and wonder.
"I reckon I thought since we'd already had him," Vince continued in a soft voice, his bottom lip pouting slightly. "That he was sort of . . . that you wouldn't mind if I . . ."
Stuart couldn't take it anymore and he leaned over and kissed Vince, savoring the soft warmth of those familiar lips. He could taste Brian there and the combined flavor of both his lovers was maddening. With his eyes closed, Stuart's mind replayed the scene he'd just witnessed in the bedroom over and over and in great detail. Suddenly he was painfully hard and he sucked Vince's lips urgently.
"He wanted your fluids," Vince murmured against Stuart's suckling lips. "He wanted to taste you . . . like you're tasting me now . . ."
A rush of blood through his body made Stuart sigh and he stroked his fingers down Vince's thighs, teasing the hairs and petting the skin. Vince stopped him and looked in his eyes.
"Are you really angry?"
Stuart thought about his answer for a long moment and the conclusion he came to surprised him a bit. "No, luv. Just jealous."
"But it wasn't even about me," Vince insisted. He looked over at Brian who was still watching them closely. "You went looking for Stuart's scent and his taste on my skin. It wasn't about me."
"It was about the combination, I'm afraid," Brian said, his voice low and raspy. "I love the way you taste together."
Stuart got up and walked over to the chair to stand in front of Brian. He looked down at the handsome American and offered him a crooked smile. "You're still a bastard," he said.
"Always was." Brian sat forward and unbuttoned Stuart's jeans and tugged them off his lean hips, burying his nose in the cotton fabric of Stuart's underwear.
His cock ached and throbbed, seeming to reach for Brian's warmth. Sighing, Stuart ran his fingers through Brian's soft hair, gently brushing the pad of his thumb over his earlobe. He knew from experience that Brian's earlobes were sensitive so he played his fingers over the soft bit of flesh gently.
Looking up, those sparkling hazel eyes arrested Stuart's gaze intently. "Will you do something for me?"
"Haven't refused you yet," Stuart said.
Brian grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "I want to lick your come off Vince's cock."
"Hmm," Stuart said, giggling playfully. "Kinky. I like it." He reached for Brian's hand and led him over to the couch.
Smiling down at Vince, he said "lie back, luv. I've been asked to get you all wet and sticky."
Vince grinned and stretched out on the couch with his arms over his head. His robe was open and flanking him on the cushions and his cock was just beginning to swell again.
Brian straddled him on the couch, gently running his finger up the big vein at the back of Vince's cock. He licked his fingertip then teased the wet digit over the slit, gently sparking the nerve endings to life. Vince chuckled softly and bit his bottom lip.
Turning his attention to Stuart who stood beside the couch, Brian pulled down his shorts to expose his hard, straining cock. Glancing at each other, they both knew it wouldn't take much to make Stuart come--not that it ever did. Brian opened his mouth and licked the back of that swollen cockhead, torturing it softly for a moment before he covered it with his lips. Brian held Stuart's erection at the base near his balls and then he just went for it--sucking ravenously, eyes closed, lungs pulling air in and out quickly. Stuart could feel his tongue sliding all over the shaft, loving it, caressing it, worshiping it.
He barely had time to moan before the first tickle of his orgasm raced up from his prostate. He couldn't stop touching Brian's silky hair as he urged his hips forward then back, all but fucking Brian's hot mouth. When he heard Brian moan, he couldn't hold back any longer. The soft vibration of his deep voice prickled all of Stuart's extremities--his nipples itched and his anus tightened and then Brian pulled back.
"Aw, shit--" Stuart groaned just as the first shot of his seed exploded from the head of cock. Brian held on to the root of his erection and guided it downward until Stuart had to lean over to hit his mark.
The next two hot sinuous blasts of semen spilled directly onto Vince's semi-hard cock. Brian stroked Stuart's shaft through the rest of his orgasm until his balls were empty and then he kissed the wet, dark cockhead appreciatively before he bent over Vince's body.
Stuart got down on his knees so he could see everything clearly. Vince stroked his curls lovingly from behind as he writhed gently on the couch. They both watched while Brian extended his tongue and licked Stuart's warm seed off Vince's cock. With every cleaning stroke, Vince grew more erect until he was sighing and moaning softly with pleasure. He reached his other hand around behind Brian's neck and played with the little puff of hair at the nape. They had both noticed it before and commented on it. Brian had a cowlick back there that made the silky patch of hair grow in the opposite direction of the rest. That little patch was irresistibly soft.
Brian moaned as he licked away the last of Stuart's spunk, then he took Vince's cock into his mouth and sucked it in long, deep strokes. Stuart kissed Vince's neck and ears and gently played with his nipples while Brian worked that magic with his mouth. It took a few minutes of concentrated effort on both their parts, but eventually they had Vince shuddering through another deep orgasm. Brian tugged Stuart's arm to get his attention and motioned for him to come down and help him clean the creamy mess Vince made when he came.
They made a lavish show of it as their tongues slid passed each other, lapping up the milky ejaculate like hungry kittens. Still catching his breath, Vince giggled like a little kid as he watched them, playing with both their hair almost unconsciously. Stuart took every opportunity he could to kiss Brian, to lick his lips and taste his tongue. He wanted to revel in whatever he could get because he knew it would likely be the last time.
Crawling up onto the couch to lie beside Vince, Stuart snuggled against him and kissed his cheek. "Are you finished now?" he said playfully.
"I think so, yeah. It must have been that pill you gave me." He kissed Stuart softly, his blue eyes heavy with relaxation.
Brian stood up and stretched, looking down at the two of them with a satisfied little smile.
"Come and cuddle," Vince said, holding out his arm and beckoning.
"Mmm," Brian purred. "I'd really love to, but I have to get back. Mikey's waiting for me." He leaned over and gave them each a lingering kiss, spending a little more time nibbling Stuart's bottom lip. "You . . . are gonna be the death of me, Mr. Jones," he whispered.
Stuart grinned. "You won't die, Brian. It'll just feel like it. That's why the French call orgasms `le petit mort'." Slipping his tongue into Brian's mouth, Stuart took one more taste before the American stood up and turned toward the bedroom to get his sweater.
"Am I forgiven for fucking your boyfriend?" he said as he tugged the garment over his head.
"Nope," Stuart said but they all knew he was joking.
Brian smiled as he started for the door. "I can live with that. See you guys tomorrow?"
"You won't sleep with us?" Vince offered one more time. "It's so nice sleeping with you."
With his hand on the doorknob, Brian appeared to consider staying. Then he shook his head and opened the door. "I have to get back. Maybe tomorrow night? A last hurrah before you run of to Marriedville."
Stuart winked at him and Vince gave him a little wave with his fingers.
"Good night," Vince said. "Thanks for the lovely shag."
Brian chuckled and blew him a kiss. "It was entirely my pleasure," he said and then he was gone.
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Brian:
As he approached the door of his suite, he realized he didn't have his key card. He'd left it in Stuart and Vince's room. "Shit," he said out loud and two seconds later a door opened down the hall.
Michael stuck his head out and squinted along the corridor. "Brian?"
"Yeah. Sorry to wake you. I left my key in Vince's room." He walked down toward Michael's door and leaned against the wall. "Can I use your bathroom?"
"Of course. And you didn't wake me. I can't get to sleep now after I passed out in your room." Michael stood aside and rubbed his eyes as Brian came in. "Did you . . ."
"Uh huh." Brian flipped on the light in the bathroom and went up to the counter. He filled the basin with a few inches of warm water and washed his face quickly. Grabbing a towel off the rack above the sink, he glanced at Michael in the mirror. "I have to go down to the front desk and get another key."
"You don't want to go back to Vince's room and get yours?"
"No," Brian said. "I'm sure they want to be alone right now."
"They? Stuart's there, too?" Michael's eyes widened. "I thought he was downstairs. Oh, wait. Kate called when I was in your room. She said they were going for dinner down in the restaurant if we wanted to join them."
"Good," Brian said, hanging up the towel. He ran his damp fingers through his hair and straightened his clothes a bit. "You can't sleep, right?"
"Right."
He walked over and put his hands around Michael's face, tilting his chin up for a quick kiss. "Then get dressed. Let's go downstairs and hang out with the Stephanis."
Michael blinked at him with weary eyes. "Brian, I'm tired."
He looked at his watch. "It's not even 10:30, Mikey. Just come downstairs and have a glass of wine or something. Just for a little while. Then you'll be able to sleep."
Reluctantly, Michael rolled his eyes and shuffled over to his suitcase to put on some clothes. Brian sat on the edge of the bed, then stood up, restlessly pacing the large hotel room. He looked out the windows and watched all the shiny black umbrellas moving around down on the sidewalk. The hard rain had tapered off to a misty drizzle but it was still getting everything soaked. Sheets of water trailed the taxis' tires as they rounded the corner on Brooks Street.
"Did you really just have sex with both of them?" Michael said, his voice low and soft. His sad tone made Brian turned to him curiously.
"I had sex with Vince. Stuart came in at the end so all I got to do was suck his cock. Why?"
Michael shook his head as he pulled his jeans on. "I just . . . never mind."
"What, Mikey?"
"Brian, you can't just DO that. They're in a relationship! They're getting married on Saturday. Do you even know what that means? Getting married is a HUGE thing. It's like . . . you have no respect for it. For THEM. I don't know, like I said--never mind." He scowled in frustration like he always did when he was trying to get Brian to see the error of his wicked ways. "It's just my jet lag talking." He grabbed a black sweater out of his suitcase and yanked it over his head then he sat on the bed to put on his shoes.
Brian frowned, smarting from what his friend had said. "You understand, Michael. It's really not like that. It's not at all what you think."
"Well, explain it to me!" He turned around and stared hard at Brian, his expression full of doubt and disappointment--and a shadow of something deeper.
Brian patted his pockets until he found his cigarettes and lighter, then he moved the sheer curtains out of the way at the window where he'd been standing. Tucking the curtains back with the hook on the wall, he pushed the window all the way up and sat down on the sill. He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out into the night air.
He'd never tried to organize his thoughts or feelings about Stuart and Vince before--it was just something he needed to do, so he did it. Motivated solely by fulfilling his own needs, Brian had coveted Stuart Jones from the first moment he'd seen him and refused to take no for an answer. Once he'd made his conquest, however, the game took on a different energy. Instead of losing interest as soon as he'd got off, like usual, Brian became slowly obsessed with Stuart. The obsession had turned itself into a deep and distracting affection on top of one of the most intense attractions he'd ever endured. Brian did not know how to begin explaining any of those things to his best friend. All he could do was sigh and look out the window at the rainy London night, wishing Michael could just simply read his thoughts and understand.
"Are you in love with him?" Michael asked, trying to get him started.
"A little," Brian said. "I guess."
"Then, Brian . . ." He got up and walked over to the window, gently resting his hand on Brian's knee. "You can't see him anymore. I mean, you know that, right? He's getting married on Saturday. Obviously he feels like he chose the right person to be with for the rest of his life so . . . if you care for him, you have to just let him go and do that."
Brian looked at his friend with a tiny smile. "I'm aware of that, Mikey. And I wouldn't have seen him at all tonight if he hadn't come in when he did. If he'd come in ten minutes later, I would have been gone."
Michael sighed patiently. "You were screwing his boyfriend. What was that about?"
Blowing smoke out the window, Brian breathed a laugh. "You haven't seen Vince yet, Mikey. Wait `til you do. You'll know what that was about." He recalled the explanation Vince had given Stuart about how Brian wanted his fluids--how he licked every trace of Stuart off Vince's skin. Brian hadn't been aware he was doing that, he was just going where his senses took him. Thinking back, he realized that was exactly what he'd done. His primal instinct was searching for Stuart's essence.
"I think you might have been projecting," Michael offered.
Brian smirked. "Ya think?"
Michael shook his head and smiled. "You've never been in love before, have you? You never told me about it if you were."
"It's not that kind of love. I don't do love." He took another hit from his cigarette and blew smoke rings under the open window sash.
"You just admitted to me that you loved him," Michael reminded. "You are so busted, Brian. I can tell, anyway."
"You can tell? How?"
"You just . . . I can just tell."
A knock on the door made them both jump. Michael looked at Brian with wide eyes.
"Who's that?"
"I'm not sure, Mikey, but I don't think it's anything to worry about." Pitching his cigarette out the window, he walked over and peered through the little view hole. Those black curls were unmistakable and Brain opened the door.
"Hey," Stuart said, waving Brian's key card in air. "Didn't think you'd get too far without this." He handed the card to Brian with an impish grin.
"Thanks," Brian said. "We were just talking about you." He stood aside so Michael and Stuart could see each other. "Mikey, this is Stuart Jones. Stuey, this is Michael Novotny."
Michael walked over to the door and shook Stuart's hand politely. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Finally. I've heard a lot about you."
Stuart smirked. "I'll just bet you have. Pleasure to meet you, as well. Is this your first time in London?"
"First time anywhere, really," Michael said. "I'm still totally overwhelmed."
"Yeah. London is very complex. As a native, I feel like I should apologize for the rain."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Michael said cheerfully. "It's just how I always imagined London."
Stuart nodded. "Well, maybe it'll be nice tomorrow. The weather changes every few minutes here usually." He looked at Brian again and his expression changed slightly. His lovely dark eyes softened then flashed that irresistible inner mischief. "See you tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah," Brian said. "Call me when you guys wake up. We'll go for lunch."
"Michael, have you seen the millennium wheel yet? The London Eye?"
"I haven't seen anything," he said. "We just got in this morning. Oh, we did see the big black lions."
Stuart laughed. "Trafalgar Square. That's a good start. Well, Vince hasn't seen the wheel, either. Maybe we could drag Kate and Richard and do that tomorrow. And maybe the new Tate, as well."
"Yeah!" Michael said. "I'd love to do that."
"Okay," Brian said, leaning against the door. "Whatever you want, Mikey." He looked back at Stuart because he couldn't help it and he let his eyes travel over that gorgeous, lean body. "Do you want to come in?"
"No thanks, luv. Gotta get back. The bathtub's filling." Stuart stepped forward in the doorway and raised up on his toes just enough to kiss Brian's lips.
That familiar electric spark shot through him as soon as Stuart was near enough to smell. The kiss was soft and quick but it was enough to bring Brian to a near swoon. His tongue lapped out gently and tasted Stuart's bottom lip just as he pulled back. Stuart's licked the spot where Brian's tongue had been and then he winked playfully.
"See ya tomorrow. Nice to meet you, Michael."
"Nice to meet you, too. Good night."
Brian shut the door and slid the key card into his pocket. He and Michael stared at each other across the narrow entry hallway.
"So?" Brian said. "What do you think?"
"I think you're in love," Michael concluded, his tone gentle and sympathetic. "And that sucks, man."
Brian laughed and ruffled Michael's hair. "I'll live, Mikey. Don't worry about me." He gave his friend a tight hug and put a kiss on top of his head.
"He's really hot," Michael said against his chest. "His eyes are amazing."
"Mm," Brian agreed, but that was all he had to say about it. "Still wanna go down and meet Kate?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"Let's go, then." Brian opened the door and ushered Michael out, asking if he had his key before he closed the door behind them.
As they rode down in the elevator together, Brian tried not to make eye contact. He knew Michael would see right through him and know exactly what was going on inside. Michael seemed to know these things even when Brian didn't know them himself. But at that moment, he didn't want to be analyzed or figured out. Brian just wanted to be numb and left alone.
"I'm not going to pressure you or bug you about this," Michael said softly, presciently.
Damn him. Brian looked up and gave him a sheepish smile. "How do you do that?"
"You read like an open book to me, Brian. One of those with the big, bold print for people who don't see very well. You always have. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I just want to say one more thing--and then I promise, I'll shut up."
Brian rolled his eyes but waited, patiently.
"Marriage is a really big thing and Stuart's getting married on Saturday," Michael said.
"I know that."
Nodding, Michael smiled at him sweetly. "Okay. Then I'm sure you'll do the right thing."
The doors opened and they stepped into the busy lobby. Brian put his arm on Michael's shoulders and they made their way to the restaurant to meet Kate and Richard.
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