DeAnna Zankich
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Summary: None
Warnings: None
Author Notes: This story is another non-serial 'one off' with absolutely no plot.
Spoilers: Some for Season One.
I'm watching all nervously as Lindsay reaches for the top of Emmett's Christmas tree with a glittering star. Mel and Ted are both holding her legs as Lindz stands on the top wrung of a really rickety ladder. She almost falls once and I cringe, looking away. We've just spent three hours decorating that tree if she crashes into it I'm gonna scream.
Emmett's not the least bit concerned. He's sitting next to me on the couch nursing his hot buttered rum and watching the proceedings with very mild interest.
"I can't look," I say, turning away from the tree again.
"Oh, don't worry. She won't fall." He gives me a wink and takes another sip of his rum. "Lindsay Peterson is one of the most balanced people I've ever met."
I glance back at the three of them just in time to see Lindz successfully attached the star to the treetop. Everyone claps--mostly out of relief. But it is a really pretty tree. We did a good job.
Brian and Michael are in the kitchen together talking about something intense. I can't hear what they're saying, but they're standing really close to each other and keeping their voices low. Brian is frowning and Michael looks stressed out and annoyed. They must be arguing about David.
Brian looks so good in his cranberry red turtleneck and faded jeans. I love those jeans. They've been washed so many times that they know the shape of his body and they hug him in all the yummiest places. He's leaning on the kitchen counter drinking some of Emmett's extremely potent wassail and the sound of Berl Ives singing "A Holly Jolly Christmas" provides a happy, festive background.
Emmett can really do a theme party. No detail left unattended. There are even sprigs of mistletoe over every door in the apartment and plastic holly branches taped to the toilet handle. Little silver ornament balls dangle from all the picture frames and sparkling garland is draped over everything that would stand still. Even Ted has a piece of it around his neck. My eyes comb up and down Brian's long, lean body and I feel myself sigh with the need to touch him.
"You know," Emmett says quietly. "The more you stare at him, the shittier he'll treat you."
I smile at him then look down shyly. I know he's right, but there's precious little I can do about it. If Brian's in the room, I've just gotta look at him. He's like magnetic north, drawing my attention wherever he moves.
"You just ignore him and watch him come crawling to you. He hates it when he doesn't have your undivided attention."
"He does?" I say, my heartbeat quickening at the thought that Brian might have actually SAID that to the guys.
Emmett rolls his eyes. "Of course. You're his little acolyte, baby. You fill his bottomless ego to overflowing."
Sometimes it makes me mad the way the guys rip on Brian. They don't really know him or how he is when he's alone with me. He might come off really cocky and full of himself, but the truth is he's just as insecure as anyone. He just can't let himself show that. He needs to be needed and he needs to fix things for his friends. It makes him feel like he's helping them--loving them. But most of the time, that intension is totally misunderstood and everyone just thinks he's being a control freak.
Emmett sees that he sort of pissed me off by saying that about Brian and he sighs, nudging me with his arm. We're sitting really close on the couch and we're both a little buzzed. When I came into the party, Mel handed me a cup of wassail and even though I'd been drinking it all night, that cup was somehow always full.
"I'm sorry," he says. "Ignore me. I'm drunk."
I squint into the cup in my hand. "What's IN this stuff, anyway?"
"Can't tell you," he says. "It's a Honeycutt family secret."
"Of course," I say.
He chuckles and whispers in my ear. "It's actually Martha Stewart's recipe. It's a bunch of different kinds of wine and apples and spices and stuff."
"It's really good," I say. "But I have no idea how much I've had. Every time I turn around, someone mysteriously gives me a refill."
He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "The recipe says to never let your guests see the bottom of their cup," he explains. "So I guess I'm doing it right."
I just smile. Emmett's really cool. He's always been so nice to me, looking after me and making sure I don't do too many stupid things. He's like my big brother. Or in his case, my big sister.
Again, I glance over at Brian because I can't help it and I see that his expression has softened. Michael's has, too. Whatever they were talking about a moment before, they must have smoothed it out. Brian can't stand David for some reason. I don't mind him, myself. He's always cool to me. He even fixed my neck one night at Babylon when I was dancing all crazy and slipped a disc. He just popped it back in like it was nothing. I thought that was impressive. But he drives Brian bugshit. Maybe it's a jealousy thing, even though I know Brian doesn't want to sleep with Michael. I guess I just don't know all the details. Big surprise, right?
"Did you get him a Christmas present?" Emmett asks me.
"Of course." I feel my cheeks heat up and I wonder if it's from embarrassment or from the wassail. "He'll hate it, though. I don't care. I still wanted to get it for him."
"What is it?" He leans in and whispers again, conspiratorially. "I promise not to tell."
I shrug uncomfortably, not sure if I can handle anyone knowing about the gift. After hedging for a moment longer, I finally lean in and whisper. "I got him a case for his business cards. It's platinum and it's monogrammed. He probably already has one."
Emmett's got that sweet smile on his face--the one I've only seen him give to me. It's like this totally patient expression but it's also really soft. Almost admiring.
"It's dumb, huh?" I say.
"Not at all," he says. "It's very thoughtful. And Brian loves fancy things."
"I hope so." I take another sip of the warm, sweet wassail and glance back at Brian again. That time, I find him looking at me and he actually smiles a little. I can't help but smile back. He's so beautiful, it hurts.
"I happen to know what he got you," Emmett says.
My heart starts pounding like crazy. "He got me something?" I whisper, eyes bugged out. "Are you kidding?"
"I'd never lie to you about that, honey. He wouldn't show it to us, but he told us what it was. I'm sure you'll like it." Emmett winks playfully. "Then again, he could give you a box of live wasps and you'd probably think it was the greatest present you ever got."
I shove him a little but I can't deny what he said. Knowing me, I'd keep that box of wasps under my goddamned pillow and figure out some way to jerk off with it.
Emmett ruffles my hair then lets his arm fall gently around my shoulders. "Well, it's not a box of wasps. I promise. It's something you'll like."
"Do you and Brian exchange gifts?" I ask.
"Sure," Emmett says. "He always gets me something really nice and makes me feel like shit, but we keep doing it. Last year he bought me the most beautiful silk shirt. It's so nice I'm afraid to wear it. But it's the perfect shade of robin's egg blue. Matches my eyes to a t." He bats those eyes and I smile.
"He really likes you, you know," I say.
Emmett nods. "I really like him. When he's not making me so mad I want to strangle him, that is."
I laugh thinking of all the times I've seen Brian and Emmett just crack up together at some joke no one else gets. We'll all be standing there looking at them like they're whacked and they'll be holding each other up laughing `til they cry. It's really cool in a way but sometimes it makes me think they have a past. Like there's something between them that I've never heard about.
Glancing back into the kitchen I see Ted has joined Brian and Michael and the three of them are well engaged in a new conversation. I look back at Emmett and figure I'm just drunk enough to gather the nerve to ask him.
"Have you and Brian ever . . ?" I just trail off, letting the obvious speak for itself.
I expect him to guffaw and tell me that of course he and Brian have never slept together, but instead he just looks down into his hot buttered rum and smiles a little. I hold my breath waiting for him to answer.
"Once," he says softly. "In fact, it was two Christmases ago at Lindsay and Melanie's annual holiday party."
I just gape at him, not sure I want to know the details but totally unable to keep from asking for them. "What happened? Did you guys really fuck?"
He takes a deep breath and says "I'm afraid so, honey. Are you sure you want to hear this?"
I look into the kitchen again to make sure Brian's still engaged in that conversation, then I shift on the couch and face Emmett all the way. My knees are touching the outside of his leg and his arm is still around my shoulders. When I lean forward our foreheads touch and he flutters his eyelashes against mine.
"This is a secret, baby," he warns. "It's important that Michael not find out."
"Really?" I say. "Are you sure Brian hasn't told him? He tells Michael everything."
Emmett nods decisively. "Trust me, my little muffin. He never told Michael this. You have to promise me you won't, either. This is just between you and me." He holds his index finger up to my nose and taps it very gently.
"I promise," I say, then I cringe uncertainly. "Is this gonna freak me out?"
He considers for a moment then shakes his head. "Nah. You're a big boy. You can handle a dirty story about someone you love. Can't you?"
I find myself grinning. "Is it REALLY dirty?"
Emmett presses his forehead to mine and looks right in my eyes. "Well, it involved three condoms, a box of corn starch, a bottle of canola oil, three big sheets of wax paper and an apple."
My jaw drops. "Holy shit."
"Mm. Oh, and a safety pin, but that wasn't until after." He looks up at Melanie as she passes by with a pitcher of wassail and he holds my cup out for her to fill. While she does this, he finishes his hot buttered rum in a few gulps and then Mel puts some wassail into his cup. "Thank you, baby," he says to her.
She gives him a slightly suspicious wink then makes her way over to where Lindsay is sitting by the softly twinkling tree. I turn back to Emmett and we sort of fold around each other with our fresh drinks, heads really close so we can speak softly. Berl Ives drowns us out as Emmett begins to tell me about his secret Christmas tryst with Brian.
"The party was really crowded," he tells me. "There were tons of people there I didn't know--wall to wall lesbians. Lindsay made this fabulous corn bread tart appetizer that was sort of like a quiche but not . . . anyway, everyone loved it and she kept running out. She had a few back up batches of it but when her guests ate all those, she asked me to go out to the pantry in the garage and get her some more ingredients. She was just going to throw together some more, apparently. I don't remember, really, I was pretty trashed by then.
"Anyway, Brian came outside with me for some reason--again, I don't remember why--maybe because we're both tall and the stuff Lindz needed was up on the top shelves of the pantry. All I know is that suddenly, I'm in this warm, dry, enclosed space alone with Brian Kinney."
"Did you know him very well then?" I ask, not recalling how Emmett and Brian met originally.
"Oh, yeah. This was right before I moved in with Michael, actually. So, I knew Brian for a while at this point."
I nod, shifting on the couch so we're even closer. I glance into the kitchen again and see the three of them still in there talking. Brian is watching me, though. I can't read his expression, but I sort of hope he's jealous of me sitting so close to Emmett. I love it when he acts all possessive, even if he doesn't really mean it. I just smile at him then turn my attention back to Emmett's story.
"So," he continues. "We're shoved up against each other in this pantry, both of us reaching up on the top shelves to get the stuff down that Lindz needed. There's a light bulb overhead but it's a really low wattage. So, you get the idea."
"Right," I say. "Ambiance and a close space."
"Exactly," Emmett says. "And two notoriously horny young men. So, next thing I know, I feel his breath on my neck and he whispers in my ear--`wanna bite?' I turn around, well as much as I can in that tight space, and he's holding up a green apple. For some reason, I REALLY wanted a bite of that thing."
I chuckle because I can picture it all so clearly. Emmett just winks at me.
"I lean forward, getting ready to take a bite of his apple and then just as I do, he takes a bite on the other side. I remember how sweet and crisp it was and I remember how it smelled--how it felt to both be biting it at the same time. I kept watching his mouth as he chewed and fixating on the apple juice on his lips. I have to admit, Brian Kinney has the most beautiful mouth I have ever seen."
I sigh in agreement then blush a little as I picture all the delicious things that gorgeous mouth has done to my body.
"Okay," Emmett says. "Now, you and I both know how Brian is. He's a big, bossy flirt and he won't take no for an answer. He thinks he's utterly entitled to fuck anyone he wants whenever the spirit moves him. Well, this was clearly an opportunity for him to fuck me, if he so desired."
"Had you two ever, like, talked about that before?" I ask. "Or was this the first time it came up?"
"Not exactly the first time," Emmett says thoughtfully. "We'd always been flirty and sort of hinting around that we wouldn't kick each other out of bed, but the whole Michael thing . . ." He shakes his head. "To this day, neither of us have told Michael about this incident, so I'm pretty sure we're not all that comfortable with it. Michael just wouldn't understand. He'd be confused by it. It just wouldn't be . . ." Emmett shook his head. "We just don't want him to know."
I look right into Emmett's eyes and whisper. "Do you think you could . . . be with Brian?"
"As a boyfriend?" Emmett's brow lifts and his eyes widen. "Oh, GOD no. Brian is WAY too selfish for this girl. But that doesn't mean I don't allow myself the pleasure of ogling him from time to time. And he loves to be ogled, so it all works out."
"He's really not all that selfish," I say, but I say it quietly knowing Emmett's opinion cannot be changed. Especially not by grossly lovesick little me.
He just looks at me for a minute with that sweet, patient expression on his face again. "Christ," he sighs. "He has no idea how lucky he is to have found you, baby." Emmett kisses my forehead softly and then takes a sip of his drink before carrying on with his tale.
"So, me and Brian and munching our way around this really juicy apple and just . . . looking at each other the whole time. I know what he's doing--he's trying to pull that Kinney Hypno-Whammy on me and make me fall to my knees and suck his dick. Well, of course, it was completely working!" He chuckles. "You know how it is. That man is impossible to refuse. So, we get almost down to the core of the apple and then we're pressed against each other. Just as our lips touch and we start sucking the juice out of the core between our mouths, I realize I can feel his dick against the inside of my hip. He was sooooo hard, baby. I could feel his pulse throbbing in the head of his cock and I just reached for it."
"Oh my God . . ." I say, staring at him. "This really happened, didn't it?" For some reason up to that point, I think I was still of the mind that Emmett was spinning a yarn. But when he said that about feeling Brian's pulse in his dick . . . I just knew he was telling the truth. It's something I always notice when we fuck. Brian burns and throbs with lust all over his body. It's so hot.
"I told you, honey," Emmett insists. "I'd never lie to you--especially not about Brian. I know I'm prone to exaggerate, but everything I'm telling you about this incident, is dead true. I promise."
I sip my drink and smile at him, encouraging him to go on.
"So, as soon as I touch his dick, there's this . . . shift in him. He goes into full predator mode. All of a sudden, he closes the pantry door and pushes my back against it and he . . . plants this KISS on me that made my knees turn to Jell-O! It was so firm but so silky . . . his tongue just sort of tickled mine and my lips felt like they burst into flames."
I laugh and nod, knowingly. I've had that kiss. A zillion times.
Emmett shakes his head. "Needless to say, I was putty in his hands. I love to kiss and so does he. We actually spent quite a while just tonguing each other down, hands everywhere, grinding on each other. It seemed like we made out for hours, but I know it was just a few minutes. I remember feeling his fingers slide around my hips to play with ass, but I don't remember when he opened my pants. It was like I just went from being dressed to be undressed without the process, you know?"
I knew. "Yeah," I say. "He's tricky like that."
"Very tricky, indeed." Emmett winks at the word play then carries on. "By this time, we were both panting and my memories get a little weird here. It must have been because I was so drunk and the whole thing was so naughty in the first place. The details that stand out in my mind are not really cohesive. They're just images . . . like . . . the way the room smelled with all those dried spices and cardboard boxes in there. The scent of the apple we ate was all over the place--all over us, our faces were still sticky with the juice. I remember touching his hair--God, his hair is so fucking soft."
"I knooooow," I say miserably. My dick is aching from Emmett's descriptions and I shift a little, trying to relieve the pressure from my pants.
"We kissed until our lips were swollen and then he suddenly dropped to his knees and gave me the most incredible blow job." Emmett sighs and his eyes close for a second. "I simply cannot explain how good it felt."
"You don't need to," I remind him and he ruffles my hair.
"Of course I don't. Sorry." He takes another sip of his drink before he goes on, glancing up into the kitchen to make sure Brian is still otherwise occupied. "He doesn't get me off, he just sucks my dick until I can barely breathe I'm so hard, and then he stood up and started biting my earlobes. His knees were covered with dust from the pantry floor, which I only noticed because my head was down. I was having trouble standing up, in fact. He was sort of holding me against the door." Emmett stops for a second, squinting thoughtfully, clearly trying to remember the events in order.
"Next thing I know, he's looking through his pockets for a condom and while he's doing that his elbow hits something on one of the shelves. I remember hearing this heavy thump but neither of us bothered to look to see what fell. Later on we saw that it was a bag of flour, but it didn't break. It was pretty dark in there but I remember hearing the condom packet rip open and then he was cussing because he dropped it. I laughed and then he laughed and then I tried to get into my own pockets, but my pants were all turned around and halfway down my legs."
I snicker and then we hear Brian's voice almost right behind us. I look up to see him walking across the living room to the couch where we're sitting. He leans over and whispers to Emmett. I can just barely hear his voice but I can smell his clean, warm skin. My mouth waters and I swallow.
"What are you telling him?" he asks.
Emmett blinks in mock innocence. "I'm just giving him a recipe for something hot and sweet, honey. You know, a little flour, a little canola oil, a little corn starch."
Brian looks at him for a breathless second then says "a little green apple?"
"That, too," Emmett says, grinning playfully. "But only if you like it really sweet."
Brian sighs. "I cannot believe you're telling him about that."
"Oh why not, Brian? Your little lamb and I have so much in common now."
Shaking his head, Brian looks over at me. "Emmett is quite a storyteller, isn't he?"
"It's quite a story," I return. "Very dishy. So far, anyway."
He nods dismissively, then he turns back to the kitchen, dragging his long, warm fingers through my hair softly as he leaves. I tingle everywhere from the touch and I can't help but sigh. If I'd been standing up, I would have swooned.
Emmett laughs softly. "He's such a hottie, that Brian. Anyway, come here. He's clocking me now. I have to talk fast."
We lean really close again and Emmett's voice drops to a whisper. Our legs are tangled around each other and I rest my chin on my bent knee.
"Okay, so before he can look for another condom, he spots something on one of the shelves that gets his interest. It's a box of corn starch. Have you ever felt corn starch?"
"Yeah," I say. "It's like powdered silk. It's nice."
He nods. "Right, well God only knows how Brian knew what it felt like because we all know he doesn't cook. Every time I've been to his house the only things in his frig are sweet relish and nine kinds of mustard."
We both giggle.
"So, he takes this box and flips the little tab and pours a pile of it into his palm," Emmett continues. "Then he pushes my shirt up and smooshes the corn starch right in the center of my chest. He starts rubbing it around and I can smell the soft, mealy scent of it. It's kind of a thick smell, but sort of comforting, you know?"
I nod.
"Well, I just kind of look down at what he's doing and watch him while he spreads this silky powder all over my torso. He's doing it really slowly, smoothing every muscle with soft white dust. It feels unbelievable, it's so satiny. When he runs his fingertips over my nipples with that stuff all over them, I almost come. I remember biting my lip and just groaning and he kissed me then . . ." Again Emmett seems to search the details to put them in order. After a moment he goes on. "Yeah," he says. "That was when he said it."
"Said what?" I ask, desperate to know.
"He said `You have an amazing body.'" Emmett lifts his eyebrows. "Can you believe that? HIM--saying that to me."
"You do have an amazing body," I tell him because it's true. Emmett's body is almost perfect. He has zero fat on him and you can see every muscle. Not to mention his completely fabulous ass.
"Well, thank you, honey. That's very nice of you. But understand, hearing it from Brian at that moment made it quite the palpable compliment."
"I bet." I take another sip and wait for the really good part.
"We kissed some more--we were kissing the whole time. It's like we couldn't stop doing it, we were both totally getting off on it. He rubbed that corn starch all over my torso and my hips and up on my thighs. He kept stroking my skin with his hands until I couldn't really see the powder anymore. He either rubbed it in or he rubbed it away, I couldn't tell. And it didn't matter, believe me. I just loved having his hands sliding all over me. I was so turned on, Justin. I remember thinking I was having a dream because it was all so surreal. Me and Brian Kinney. It just seemed so . . . weird. But then he would do something that brought me right back to the moment and I'd be clobbered with the reality of what we were doing. Even though I was so hard and totally into it, I almost bailed out a few times before he started fucking me."
"Were you scared?" I ask. "Like, that Michael would be mad?"
"No," Emmett says speculatively. "I was mostly concerned that I would get all emotional with him."
"You mean fall for him?"
He takes a deep breath then smiles at me a little sadly. "I'm the worst at falling for the heartbreakers, baby. It's my affliction. And I was really worried I was going to go there if he didn't stop making my body feel so good. It was like he was putting me in a trance with sensation. It was the kind of feeling people commit murder to keep."
Again we just sort of look at each other and we both smile. He knows I know what he means.
"So, what did you do?" I say. "I mean, how did you make yourself go for it?"
"He must have sensed I was hesitating because he switched then from the corn starch to the canola oil. I don't even remember him reaching for it, but all of a sudden there it was in his hand--this bottle of oil. He kissed me a hundred more times and then I felt his hot fingers all slick with that oil rubbing all over my dick. Honey, let me tell you--if I was thinking of jumping ship at that point, he blew away my last doubt with those oily little fingers."
I laugh again but the image actually makes my blood rush. I shiver visibly and Emmett kisses my forehead.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Please go on."
Smiling, he continues. "All right, the next thing I know, he's got me turned around and I'm facing the door. His pants are open--again, I don't remember when that happened. But I can feel his lovely hard-on pressing against my ass cheeks while he's stroking my dick reallllllyy slowly. Just enough pressure to make me tremble, but not enough to make me come. Perfect torture, if you know what I mean."
"I know."
"Yeah. I'm sure you do. I know he didn't use the oil for lube because it would have torn the condom, so he must have had lube on him."
"He's always prepared," I say. "He's a sexual boy scout."
Emmett laughs at this. "Well, he certainly got his merit badge in experimental cooking that night, baby! I hear him fumbling with another condom and it's taking him forever to get this thing on. This was the last time I felt that freak out come over me. I was so ready to just open the pantry door and stumble out into the garage with my pants around my ankles, complaining of a sudden headache or whatever it took to stop myself from doing the nasty with him. But . . . he got himself together just in time. I think I even had my hand on the doorknob. Then all at once, he's stroking me again and breathing on my neck and I feel his fingers getting me all slick inside."
I hold my breath at this point, afraid that if I move even one bit I'll come in my shorts. It's not so much Emmett's story this time, it's my own memories of that very moment with Brian. I love that moment--right before he enters me. It's exactly like standing on the edge of a dead-drop cliff with your toes dangling over. Point of no return. And then the drop--the penetration--and the incredible free-fall rush begins.
"I'm sure you know what I mean," Emmett says, lowering his chin and looking right in my eyes. "Brian has a big, gorgeous dick. And when he finally slipped it in . . . I almost fainted."
I just sigh. It's all I can do.
"So, he presses me against the door and kisses my neck before he starts to fuck me. For a few minutes he just kisses me and breathes on me and tickles my tummy really softly. He thought he had to give me time to get used to his size, which was actually funny. I like big boys and I chose big boys, so he really had nothing to worry about. But it was nice, nonetheless. Considerate. Anyway, I remember him whispering to me about something . . . saying something dirty in my ear."
"He loves to do that," I say and my voice is all scratchy and hoarse. "Talking dirty is one of his specialties."
"Well," Emmett says. "That doesn't surprise me. Brian is a very dirty boy. So he finally starts to move and I'm thinking it's going to be quick, right? We're in a bit of a hurry since we're expected back in the kitchen with the ingredients for the corn tarts and everything. I'm expecting a really fast, furious romp. Well, that's not what he had in mind. I remember him holding onto my hips and fucking me really slowly . . . he wiggled around in there, too, like a--"
"Figure eight," I finish. We both grin.
"Yes. Like that. And he touched absolutely EVERYTHING that felt good inside me. It was like his dick had a mind of its own in there. It was incredible. I mean, I've done a lot of guys but Brian was exceptional. Of course, I expected him to be. If he hadn't been, I'd have told EVERYONE. It would have been great dish." Emmett bats his eyes then giggles, letting me know he would never really have done such a thing. "Anyway, he more than lived up to his legend as far as I was concerned. He had me gasping and holding onto whatever I could grab just to keep up with him. In my flailings, I knocked down a box of wax paper and these three sheets rolled out onto the pantry floor. I probably wouldn't have noticed that at all if I hadn't almost slipped on them when I moved my feet.
"The thing that stands out more than anything, though, is how he touched me," Emmett says. He glances up at Brian who has returned to his conversation with Ted and Michael in the kitchen. I see them look at each other for a long moment and then Brian winks at Emmett. Emmett turns back to me and leans in again, lowering his voice to continue his story. "The whole time he was caressing me everywhere he could reach and giving me these really sweet, soft kisses on my neck and shoulders. It felt so good . . . so . . . affectionate. I was just getting lost in the feeling when he suddenly pulls out."
"Why?" I say, actually alarmed.
"He broke the fucking condom," Emmett says laughing. "He's cussing again as he rips open another packet and then finally he's back inside me. That time, he started being a little frantic. He was really hard and I think I was begging him to make me come or something--I remember saying something barely coherent to him. My memories get fuzzy here so I'm fairly certain he was rocking my clock."
I laugh and take another sip of my drink, knowing exactly how Emmett felt. Brian has certainly rocked my clock enough times.
"I remember coming--I remember us both trying to be quiet, stifling our voices. I remember him moaning into my shoulder and I remember covering my mouth with my hand. It was incredible, but I don't recall the actual orgasm. What I remember was the way he WAS. How . . . I can't describe it any other way than to say he was soft. He was sweet with me. Gentle."
"Yeah," I say. "He tries to be such a hard-ass all the time, but he's really affectionate in bed. He loves to kiss and cuddle and he's always touching me if he's near enough. He's a big love bug."
Emmett smiles. "My thoughts exactly, but this was all a big surprise to me at that moment. I was expecting a very different experience with him."
"Of course," I concur. "He comes off like he's going to be this fierce bastard in bed. He's so not."
"Well," Emmett says. "You and I also have a very different sort of relationship with Brian than his anonymous tricks have. We don't know how he is with them."
"I was an anonymous trick at first," I remind him. "And he was just as sweet then when we were actually doing it. Before he tried to be prick, but it didn't last once we got naked."
"You were a virgin, pumpkin," Emmett says gently. "Unless you're some sort of predatory creep, no guy would be cruel to a first-timer."
"I guess," I say, shrugging. I'm not really able to explain my memory of how Brian was with me that first night. I figure I shouldn't bother trying. It won't make sense to anyone but me.
"Anyway, so we finish and we're trying to get ourselves together. It's then that I realize I broke the button on the waistband of my pants and we look around on the floor trying to find it. They were these really lose lineny things so without the top button they were going to fall down. However, we have no luck finding the button. Brian situates himself then he cleans up the mess we made--puts the oil and the wax paper back, gathers up all the condom wrappers cuz--can you imagine? The lesbians would never forgive us!
"Then he goes out to the garage and starts looking through the stuff on the shelves over the washer and dryer. I go out there and wash my hands in the sink. There are some clean towels folded on top of the dryer so I grab one and try to wipe off the cornstarch and all the stuff Brian put on my skin. He finds a Tupperware thing full of sewing stuff and gets me a safety pin for my pants. So, while he's helping me pin my clothes we're standing there with our foreheads together and I look at him." Emmett's eyes flit over to Brian again. "I think I said something like `wow, that was fun' or something and then he says `you were a lot different than I thought you'd be'. I go `really? so were you, actually.' He says `how so?' and I'm thinking . . . I really shouldn't say anything because he'll just get pissed off, but he keeps staring at me waiting for me to tell him what I meant. So, I did."
"What did you say?" I ask.
"I said `Brian, you probably won't want to hear this but you're an excellent lover'," Emmett tells me.
"Why wouldn't he want to hear that?" I wonder.
Emmett raises his finger and nods. "Exactly what he said. `Why wouldn't I want to hear that?' And I said `because I would think you'd be much more comfortable with me saying you were an excellent fuck.'"
"Oooohhh . . . ." I say. "Right, of course. What did he say to that?"
"He just looked at me for a minute and then he shakes his head and goes `whatever. As long as you got off, that's all that matters.'"
"Typical," I say. "He tried to blow it off."
"Exactly. But I figured, in for a penny in for a pound, so I start ripping on him a little. I say `I'm gonna tell everyone the big bad Lord of Liberty Avenue is a big pussy cat.' And he just glares at me so I stop teasing him. Then he says `you can tell anyone you want but don't tell Mikey.' Now, I never had any intention of telling Michael about this, but the way he said it was so . . . I don't know, it seemed like we were on different pages about WHY we weren't going to tell Michael. So, I asked him and he said `Mikey just wouldn't understand. He'd be upset.'"
"He'd be jealous," I suggest, but Emmett shakes his head.
"No, honey. He wouldn't be jealous, he'd be angry."
"I don't get it."
Emmett takes a deep breath and shifts his position a little so he can fold his legs Indian-style. "See, Michael wants Brian to be a certain way. He wishes Brian would stop wasting all his love with all this meaningless fucking. What he doesn't quiet see is that Brian is looking for something. He's trying to find the right connection, like we all are. But for him . . . there are so many variables that have to balance. He needs a certain amount of respect and distance and he needs to not be judged--at least by a lover."
I'm listening to all this very carefully, wondering how Emmett knows so much about Brian's inner workings. He seems to be speaking with the utmost certainty so I pay full attention.
"Michael projects his own needs for a partner on Brian and pushes him around with that set of rules. Brian's rules are totally different from Michael's but he's never been able to just up and SAY that to Michael. I think he just wants Michael to keep watching his back, but he doesn't know how to say that if he were to take on a relationship, his execution of it would be totally different than Michael's."
"What would it be?" I say.
Emmett gives me that soft, patient smile again. "It would be very similar to what he's doing with you, honey. He would be showing his feelings all the time, but never putting a spotlight on them. He would always be vulnerable but only if you're really looking for it. He would express himself more in what went Unsaid rather than what actually comes out of his mouth. What he SAYS will usually be the opposite of what he means."
I take a deep breath and sigh. It's totally true, everything Emmett just said. Brian does all those things with me. I look into Emmett's pretty blue eyes and whisper. "Do you think he loves me?"
"Do you?" he returns. "Think about your answer, now. Think about all that stuff I just said. Only you know for sure, you have a lot more intimate time with him than the rest of us. You're the only one who can answer that question."
When I look over at Brian then, he's just pulling Michael toward him to put a kiss on his friend's forehead. He isn't looking at me, but I can feel him focusing on me--like I'm in his peripheral vision and he's still keeping track of me. Or maybe I just hope he is. Looking down into my cup, I turn back to Emmett, but I decide not to address the love question just yet.
"So you didn't want to tell Michael about it because Michael would have felt like you had somehow . . . connected with Brian. That you understood him. Right?"
"Smart boy." Emmett winks at me. "It's not a romantic jealousy thing we're worried about. It's breach of friendship."
"Well, how did it all end that night?" I say.
"Well, that was pretty much it. We almost forgot to get the stuff Lindsay sent us out there for, but when we went back to the party we hadn't been missed. It turned out we were only gone for about twenty minutes. So, we put the stuff in the kitchen, then I grabbed Teddy and dragged him into a corner to dish the whole story."
"You did not!"
"Oh, yes I did!" Emmett laughs. "We agreed not to tell MICHAEL, but we said nothing about telling anyone else. Besides, there was no way I could let something that huge go without telling Ted."
I laugh and shake my head. "So who else knows?"
"Just you," he says. "At least from my end. I don't know who, if anyone, Brian has told. Maybe Lindsay, but I don't know. She's never said anything to me. If I had to bet, I'd say only Ted and now you know about this."
Brian moves in the kitchen and starts back toward us. He walks around the couch and wiggles himself between me and Emmett, draping his arms over both our shoulders. "Are you done?" he asks Emmett.
"Yes, dear." They look at each other for another long, secretive moment and then they smile.
Brian's fingers tickle the hairs at the back of my neck and I turn my head a little so I can kiss the naked skin under his wrist. He draws me toward him and kisses my lips, softly brushing his nose over mine. "Coming home with me?"
"Yeah," I say trying not to look too elated. I never know if he's taking me home to his bed or not. I hate that part, but I'm sure it's just a protection mechanism for him. Maybe it makes him feel safer emotionally if he feels like he can call the shots up until the last moment.
"Okay," he says. "Will you get our coats?"
"Sure." I put my cup down and get up, walking into Emmett's bedroom on slightly wobbly legs. Funny how you never know how drunk you are until you stand up. I'm definitely buzzed. Whatever is in that wassail has successfully kicked my ass. I start to wonder if I'm going to be in any shape to fuck that night.
Standing at Emmett's bed, I pick up Brian's soft leather coat and bring it to my face. I love the way he smells--especially in the morning. His skin is so warm and soft and being under blankets all night brings out his natural scent. I love to bury my nose in his chest in the morning and just breathe him in. He probably thinks I'm a weirdo cuz he wakes up with my nose all mashed against him, but I don't care. I absolutely love the way he smells.
I take our coats out to the living room as he's saying his goodbyes. Emmett gives me a kiss and a good solid hug.
"Thanks for telling me all that," I say.
"You're a great audience," he says as he walks us to the door.
I say good night to everyone and then Brian and I are outside walking toward his Jeep. It's cold and crisp and the air feels good on my face. He lets me in on the passenger side but he doesn't say anything. Once we're in the car, he turns on the heater for me--he's never cold but I always am. Although he smiles at me a few times, he doesn't have anything at all to say for the whole ride back to his loft.
When we're in the elevator I finally have to break the silence. "Is something wrong?" I say very tentatively.
He rolls the gate up and lets me out, then I feel his hand touch my back softly as we walk to his door. "No," he says. "I'm just tired. Drank too much."
"Me, too," I say, relieved. "I think I just want to go to sleep."
He unlocks the door and we go in, then he sets the alarm. I walk up to the bedroom but I don't take my coat off yet. It's a little chilly in the loft and I want to ask him to turn on the heater, but I know he hates to have that thing on. He sleeps better when the room is cold.
He comes up into the room and walks to the wardrobe where I expect him to start getting undressed. Instead, he reaches up onto the top shelf and takes down the extra blanket there. He walks around to the foot of the bed and shakes the folded blanket out over the duvet. I smile at the compromise. No heater, but I get an extra blanket.
I undress quickly and crawl under the covers, pulling them around me to try to get warm. While I'm lying there, I watch him undressing himself slowly. He seems to be thinking but I know better than to ask what about. Brian doesn't like to be dissected. So, I stay quiet and just concentrate on getting the cool blankets to warm up around my body.
Finally he crawls into bed with me, sliding across the large mattress until he reaches me. His arms curl around me under the covers and I shiver at the coolness of his skin. He draws me toward him and I wrap around him with all my limbs, realizing he wants me to warm him.
"Why don't you just turn the heater on?" I finally have to say.
"This is better," he whispers back, rubbing his nose back and forth in my hair.
I sigh and press against him, feeling his skin heat up nicely under my touch. I guess he's right. This is pretty good.
Neither of us say anything for a long time, but we're both wide awake. We just lie there and touch each other really softly. We don't kiss, we just pet each other and sort of nuzzle like puppies. We've never really done this before so I'm not sure how he wants me to proceed. I'm pretty drunk and my body feels heavy but I always respond to him when he's near me. My dick is swollen against his belly and he reaches for it under the blankets.
Finally he kisses me but really softly--no tongue at first. He just presses his lips to mine over and over, his warm fingers gently playing with my erection. I can feel his cock against the top of my thigh. It's full and hot but not hard. He seems to be concentrating on pleasing me.
"Brian?" I whisper.
"Shhhhhhh . . . ." He rolls on top of me and then he reaches over to the night table near him. Out of the decorative bowl there he grabs the ever-present tube of KY.
"I'm too buzzed to fuck," I say. "I'll puke."
He smiles and kisses me. "We're not going to fuck tonight. Maybe in the morning." I watch as he squeezes a dollop of KY into his hand then puts the tube back in the bowl. He warms the lubricant between his fingers as he reaches under the blankets again.
Lifting up a little, he supports his weight on his knees then he gently smoothes the warm lube all over my dick. It feels so good, I start moaning right away and I open my legs really wide. He kisses me and his tongue finds mine, hot and stroking inside my mouth. I rub his silky shoulders and play with his hair and his earlobes while he slowly, softly jerks me off. It doesn't take him long. I can't help but whimper a little as I come and he kisses me the whole time.
After, he cleans my tummy with a towel he keeps under the pillow and then he pulls me to him again. He lays on his left side and I face him, burying my nose in the bend of his neck. Once again I can feel his full, hot dick against my thigh. He's still not hard but I can feel his pulse throbbing in the smooth head.
"Don't you want to come?" I whisper.
He just strokes my back and kisses my forehead.
I'm really warm then and feeling drowsy from my orgasm and I snuggle as close to him as I can get and still breathe normally. I feel him sigh and start taking long, even breaths. I know we're both falling asleep but I want to talk to him and make sure he's okay. He's so quiet, it's freaking me out a little.
"Brian?" I say against his ear.
"Please go to sleep, Justin."
"Are you okay? I mean, really? You're so quiet."
"I'm fine," he says. "I'm just tired."
I kiss his ear softly in that way I know he likes and then take another deep breath. His scent fills my nose and I shiver a little from the pleasure of it.
"I love you," I say almost inaudibly, but I'm so close to his ear that I know he heard me.
His arms tighten around me very slightly and I feel him press his tummy against mine. We're touching everywhere we could possibly touch and I can feel his heart beating in his chest. It picks up speed for a moment and then after a while, it slows back to normal. I follow the rhythm of it and it works like a metronome. The next thing I know, we're asleep.
The End
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