Part 2
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Cloudbusting
Summary: Brian, Stuart, and Vince meet up once again, and fun ensues.
Warnings: None
Sitting in the library after dinner with their glasses of brandy, Stuart and Vince reclined on the settee across from Reb and Andie. Several of the other guests were in there, as well, seated at the various conversation nooks and talking amongst themselves. Everyone was keeping their voices low, being respectful of one another. The fireplace crackled with a bright blaze.
Reb had been grinning at him all through dinner and she continued to do so as she sat on the couch with Andie leaning against her. The young girl had heavy-lidded eyes and she was trying desperately to stay awake.
"What?" Stuart asked Reb, knowing what.
"Congratulations," she said, giving him a wink.
"Why?" Andie asked, sleepily. She looked up her aunt then over at Stuart. "What happened?"
"Stuart and Vince are getting married," Reb explained. "Vince popped the question this afternoon."
Andie blinked at them, her brown eyes confused. "You're marrying each other?" she said.
"Yeah," Vince answered.
"But . . . you're both so cute."
This made them all laugh suddenly and the other guests in the room glanced over at their small party.
"I didn't mean it like that," Andie said, blushing like crazy. "I mean . . . I just meant . . ."
"They know what you meant, honey," Reb said, gently. "I, for one, am very pleased about it. I know we just met these nice young men today but one should always be happy for others when they find the real thing. True love. It's quite rare," she told the girl.
"Like you and Uncle?" Andie asked softly.
"I hope so," Reb said. "I really hope it IS like that for you two."
Stuart smiled into her eyes.
Some of the guests sitting near the fireplace were commenting on the painting over the mantle. It was of a rural scene-animals and trees and such. There were two dogs, some birds and some woodland creatures all appearing to bound around each other in a frenzy of activity. Vince had been staring at it for a few minutes with his brow knit.
"There's something wrong with that painting," he said.
Stuart looked over at it, squinting at the details of the scene depicted. "That dog in the foreground is a bit out of proportion," he offered.
"Can you see why?" Reb asked.
Vince frowned at the painting, leaning forward in his seat a bit. "No," he said. "I mean, the dog in front is out of proportion, but it could just be the lighting."
"Look closer at that dog and I'll tell you a story about that painting." Reb put her glasses on and looked across the room at the artwork in question. "One year when my husband and I were guests here, the owner told us that the artist was a woman who lived in Yorkshire. She did large, rural paintings like this for banks and hotels and office buildings and such. Her husband was a photographer for some nature magazine-National Geographic or something like that. Anyway, while he was on an assignment for the magazine in Africa, he had an accident with a lion."
"An accident?" Vince asked.
Reb looked at him over the rim of her glasses. "He was eaten by one, apparently. Killed."
"Oh my God."
"Really, Auntie?"
"Really. And after that, the woman was so grief-stricken that every time she painted a picture like this one, she would work the image of a lion into the scene."
Stuart's eye scanned the image in front of him over and over and then suddenly, there it was. The image was of a lion lurking in the dark in that field of black on the chest of the dog that looked out of proportion. The lion's chin was down, menacing, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting victim. The creature's eyes looked right out from the canvas-directly into his soul. He swallowed and felt his heart beat thickly. The image was utterly chilling.
"I don't see it," Vince said.
He reached over and turned Vince's chin toward him. "You don't want to," he said. "Really."
"Can you see it?"
"I just did. Vince, really. It's . . . bloody horrible. You don't want to see it." He felt cold all over and he knew he was shivering.
Vince frowned, pulling Stuart into his arms. "All right?"
"Yeah. It's just really . . . creepy." Over Vince's shoulder, he could see that cryptic lion seeming to watch him and he wished he'd never searched for the image. He wished he could unsee it but knew he would remember it for the rest of his life.
He rested his forehead on Vince's shoulder letting himself be held and when he glanced over at Reb on the couch, she was looking at him with sad, sympathetic eyes.
* * *
Vince:
Monday morning when they stood at the front desk checking out, Andie came down the stairs in a flurry of youthful energy and threw her arms around Vince.
"Congrats on your engagement," she said. "I think that's totally cool that you're getting married. And your boyfriend's a hottie."
Vince laughed. "Yeah, I thought so, too. You take care, now. Write to us?"
"Absolutely. I'm really glad you were on the boat with me. That was so bitchin' and I KNOW it was her!" Andie walked over to Stuart who had just finished signing his credit card slip. "You guys having a big wedding?"
"Pretty big. We haven't decided when yet, though. Maybe you and your aunt Reb can come."
"That would be cool. Anyway, be good, Stu." She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. "See you guys!" She bounded down the hall and out the front door, off to take Billy for a run around the grounds.
Reb called to them from the library just as they were shouldering their bags and getting ready to leave.
"There you are," Vince said. "Thought we'd missed you." He walked into the library and gave her a hug. "Thanks for all your help. Really."
She held his face in her hands for a moment. "I assure you it was my pleasure spending time with him. You take care of each other, now. Write to us."
"Definitely." As he turned to go, his eye caught that painting again. He looked at it closely in the daylight, trying once again to locate the image of the lion.
Reb stepped up behind him and covered his eyes with her hand. "Vince, really," she said. "It's a terrible thing to see. And once you do, you'll never forget it."
"It's such a sad story," he said, turning back to her.
Reb only nodded.
Stuart came into the library and went to give her a hug. While they said their good-byes, Vince had to force himself not to look at the painting. Despite Reb's words, he wanted very badly to see that lion.
(Saturday morning)
Brian:
The phone woke him at just after 6:15am that Saturday. Oddly enough, Brian was alone in his bed having had a quick threesome in the back room at Babylon the night before. Fine with him, really. No one to kick out in the morning.
He groped in the hazy dawn light for the phone on the night table, never really opening his eyes. "What?" he croaked into the receiver.
Cynthia sighed at his tone. "Look, I’m no happier being up at this hour on a Saturday than you are, so don’t take it out on the messenger."
"What the fuck is going on?"
"Our charming boss called ME an hour ago and said YOU have to go to London. Tonight. You’re expected in a meeting on Monday morning for the Lloyds account and he wants you to get there and sleep off your jet lag."
Brian groaned, dropping his head down on the pillows.
"I’ve spent the last hour arranging your flight and your hotel," she went on. "I’ll have your travel packet delivered to your place at around noon. Will you be up by then?"
"I’ll be up," he muttered.
"Okay. You’re staying at the Savoy so it won’t be all that bad. You’ll be there for a few days. Long enough to take in a play if you feel like it. I hear "The Tempest" is running there."
"Cynthia, can you picture me at a Shakespeare play? I mean, can you picture me there and not see me snoring?"
She breathed a weary laugh. "At least you knew it was Shakespeare. I’ll see if I can find a play with some male nudity in it."
"Forget the play," Brian said, rolling onto his back. "If you really want to find something I’ll enjoy doing, book me a couple of nights in Manchester."
"Manchester," Cynthia repeated. "Do you have friends there or something?"
Brian opened his eyes in the gray dawn and looked up at the rows of quiet neon lights above his bed. When they were lit the light glowed blue. "Yeah," he answered simply. "When’s the meeting?"
"Monday morning at 10:30 at their London office."
"That’s all I have to do there?"
"Yep." She popped the ‘p’ like a kid flipping his finger inside his cheek.
"Okay . . . then I’ll go to Manchester Monday night. Book me a nice hotel and a good flight and I’ll stay there two days. I’ll need a day to recover when I get back and I’ll be in the office on Friday."
He could hear her writing all that down.
"All right," she said. "Manchester Monday and Tuesday night, fly out on Wednesday, back in the office Friday. Got it."
"Good. I’ll call you later." He hung up and sighed, rolling over into his pillows. He was asleep again almost instantly.
* * *
(Monday evening)
Vince:
The flat seemed different as they unpacked from their trip and started a load of laundry. He sat on the bed and sipped a glass of white wine just looking around. Maybe it wasn’t the flat that was different . . . but it was something. He FELT different. Vince felt like something had shifted inside him and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
Stuart stepped up to the bedroom dressed in his silky pajama bottoms and a snug white t-shirt. He looked lovely in white and Vince smiled at the sweet implications of that.
"You sure you won’t wear a dress for the wedding?" he said as the lithe brunette crept onto the bed at this side.
"I’m positive. What’s wrong with you?"
"Absolutely nothing. Why?"
"You’re bloody quiet. There’s something . . . tell me."
Vince frowned, looking down at his glass and swirling the contents around gently. For a moment he said nothing at all and then he looked up at Stuart-his fiancée-and smiled, sadly. "I don’t get to chase you anymore," he said.
Stuart blinked. "Wha’?"
"You’ve stopped running. You’ve agreed to marry me so I don’t need to chase you anymore. I’ve spent half my life chasing you. It’s all I know, really. Don’t know if I can adjust to this new way of life."
"Are you joking?" Stuart said, seriously. "You must be."
When Vince said nothing, Stuart laughed incredulously.
"I thought this was what you wanted, Vince! I thought you’d be happy."
"I AM happy, luv. Deliriously happy. I’m just saying . . . it’s going to be . . . weird. Everything’s different now. It’ll take me some time to sort out how to behave."
Stuart flopped back on the bed, sighing. "You’re going to drive me mad, you know. Are you saying you’re worried about getting bored now?"
Vince looked back at him. "Not me, Stuart. I’m worried that YOU are going to get bored. Like you’ll decide there’s no reason for you to run since I’m no longer giving chase. That’s been the dynamic of our relationship since Day One. Do you see what I mean? What the fuck do we do now?"
"We get married and live happily ever after," Stuart said, cheekily.
"How? Do you know how to be happy, Stuart? Are you equipped for that? I can’t honestly say that I am."
Stuart sat up again, rubbing his palms over the tops of his thighs. He always did this when he was thinking about something that disturbed him, but Vince didn’t think he was aware of it.
"Is anyone?" the brunette said. "Is anyone equipped to be happy? I don’t even know if that’s part of the human equation. Most people I’ve known are only really happy when they’re going after something-reaching for something. The actually GETTING of whatever it is, isn’t the point. It’s the journey."
"EXACTLY what I’m saying!" Vince insisted. "See? What the fuck happens now? Do we just . . . stop? Do we just . . ."
"You proposed to me," Stuart pointed out. "This was your idea."
Vince shook his head and laughed, helplessly. "Just . . . never mind. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I shouldn’t have said anything." He finished his wine and just sat there, feeling Stuart’s dark eyes drilling into the side of his head.
Then suddenly Stuart reached across him and grabbed the phone. He held it out to Vince, his eyes intent and slightly devilish.
"You want something to worry about, Vince? Call Brian. He’ll tell you something that’ll give you bloody nightmares. Go on, then. Call him."
Vince stared at his lover coldly. "That’s not what I’m saying. Never mind."
"Fine," Stuart said, his eyes flinty. "I’ll call him. I’ll sit right here on this bed and have a wank with him while you listen. You want something to fucking worry about . . ."
"Fuck off-that is NOT what I mean!" Vince grabbed the phone and hurled it across the bedroom, where it banked off the dresser and skittered into the bathroom. He was standing then and glaring down at Stuart with his heart hammering in his chest. "You’re not listening to me."
"I am listening to you, Vince. You’re being stupid." Stuart stalked over to the bathroom and grabbed the phone, bringing it back to its cradle where he slammed it down. "Was that little show of temper meant to frighten me?"
Vince just looked down. This was not going well and he felt very much out of control.
"Why are you instigating a row?" Stuart asked, his voice soft but icy.
"I-I’m not. You asked me what was wrong and I told you. I’m sorry if my answer didn’t agree with you." He walked away, down the bedroom steps and into the kitchen where he opened the fridge for the bottle of wine. Standing inside the open door, he refilled his glass, watching his lover cross the room out of his peripheral vision.
Stuart leaned on the counter, pulling himself forward so he was balancing on the tips of his toes. This was another thing he did that Vince felt sure he wasn’t aware of. Stuart always went into mild acrobatics when he was tense. In a really bad situation, he would practically climb the walls.
"Vince, you can say anything to me. I’m not trying to . . . I don’t mean . . . fuck," he heaved a sigh and wiggled up onto the counter, perching there with his legs folded Indian style. He wrung his beautiful hands anxiously. "I don’t want to argue," he offered.
"Neither do I." Vince put the bottle back in the fridge then walked over to where Stuart was sitting. He handed him the fresh glass and watched while the lovely brunette took a deep sip.
"I can’t believe you’re really worried about my getting bored," Stuart said. "You keep me on my toes constantly. In this whole year, I’ve never once been bored."
"And now, we’re betrothed," Vince said. "Done. Game over. Objective reached. Do you see?"
Stuart nodded. "I do, but I think you’re overanalyzing it to the point where you’re making a problem that wouldn’t otherwise exist. Do you see THAT?"
Vince frowned, taking the glass back and drinking from it.
"I understand that you’re worried," Stuart continued. "So, we’ll address that concern. We’ll just make sure that neither of us ever get bored. No matter what. If we’re together for fifty years, we’ll just make sure we’re always . . . keeping each other awake. Yeah, it’ll take some doing. We’ll have to be creative. But . . ." he tried a saucy little grin. "I think we can come up with something. Don’t you?"
He set the glass down on the counter beside his lover and lowered his head down onto Stuart’s chest. Vince let all the air out of his lungs and just stood there for a moment, thinking. "We should celebrate," he said after a while.
Stuart stroked the skin on his neck with soft, tickling fingers. "Okey doke . . . what would you like to do?" He kissed Vince’s earlobe, taking the soft bit of flesh into his teeth gently.
Shivering slightly from the contact, Vince raised his chin and pressed his lips against Stuart’s. "Let’s go out. Do something fun."
"Right," Stuart said. "Okay. Want to go dancing?"
"Yeah," Vince said, nodding. "That’s good, yeah. Let’s do that. I feel like getting pissed and just . . . dancing."
"All right, then," Stuart spun around on the counter and dismounted on the opposite side, going back to the bedroom to get dressed.
"Stuart."
He stopped in the bedroom doorway and looked back.
Smiling for the first time since that conversation began, Vince said, "will you wear that blue top I like? The one that’s the same color as your eyes?"
Stuart returned the smile. "’Course I will." Then he went into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.
* * *
Nathan:
He and Alex stood at the bar at Via Fossa that Monday night looking around at the meager crowd. Nathan sipped a diet Coke with disinterest and glanced down at his watch.
"Nothin’ happening here," Alex said. "Let’s move on to the Union." He crushed out his cigarette and tugged Nathan’s arm, pulling him toward the door.
As they stepped out onto Canal Street, Nathan’s eye caught sight of someone new. He and Alex walked down the street a bit and the handsome stranger walked toward them, pretty hazel eyes taking in all the scenery around him like a tourist in a new town.
"Ooooooh, blimey," Alex cooed. "Slap my face and make me a nun, do you SEE that?"
"I saw him first," Nathan muttered.
Alex slugged him playfully in the arm. "Why don’t we let HIM decide. Let’s see where he goes."
They stepped out of the flow of foot traffic and leaned against the wall, watching as the sexy guy continued passed them. He wore black jeans and a charcoal turtleneck under his heavy black leather jacket. Feathery light brown hair, perfect, full lips and those eyes . . . wide, soft hazel colored, long-lashed but still remote. Cold almost. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket and his breath puffed in the cool night air.
Nathan and Alex watched the stranger stop in front of Babylon and look up at the sign. He smiled a little then headed up to the door.
"Right," Alex said. "Get out your membership. Let’s do a dance for the pretty new boy and let him see the goods."
They waded through the people passing on the street and followed the handsome stranger into Babylon.
* * *
Brian:
Babylon. How could he not go in? He had to compare this one to the one at home, just so he could tell the story next time he was having drinks with the boys. It was so amusing that he might even have to call Michael and tell him about it that night.
Brian Kinney paid the man at the door then sauntered into the smoky club, surprised at the good crowd. It was only 9:30 and the place was packed. Monday night, even. He decided he must have found the hot spot on Canal Street and went to locate the nearest bar.
* * *
Hazel:
She heard the phone ring as she was applying her lip liner. Walking over to the phone on the bedside table, she checked her hair in the closet mirror as she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hazel, it’s Janice. How are you?"
"Oh, hello, luv. I’m just fine. How are you? How’s our boy Nathan?"
"He’s exactly the same," Janice Maloney said, sardonically. "But that’s fine with me. Listen, I was wondering if you were going to be around this evening. Nathan’s out and I was feeling a bit restless. Would you like to go for a drink?"
"I was planning to, anyway. Why don’t you meet me at Via Fossa in a half an hour? We’ll make a night of it."
"Great," Janice said. "See you there."
Hazel smiled as she hung up. She liked Nathan’s mother and was very pleased to have had some small part in Janice’s personal awakening. Hazel was glad to have a girlfriend her own age, as well.
She grabbed her coat and primped one more time before she headed down to get a taxi to the Village.
* * *
Nathan:
The sexy stranger was standing at the bar, assessing the room while he sipped his drink. Looked like vodka or gin, maybe. Nathan made his way through the crowd and stood beside the new guy, gently pressing his arm against the other man’s to get his attention.
He felt it when his prey turned around. Nathan lowered his chin and offered his best Stuart-style grin. "Hiya," he said. "Haven’t seen you before."
The man looked him up and down, wolfishly and smiled back. "I’m just visiting," he said in a distinct American accent.
"Yeah? From where?"
"Pittsburgh," he said. "Ever been to the States?"
"Not yet," Nathan said, happy the conversation was underway. "But I’d like to someday."
"Well, don’t go to Pittsburgh. You’ll be bored shitless." He looked out at the crowd again, his lovely eyes seeming to search the faces of the patrons.
Nathan forged on. "Are you here on business or are you visiting friends in Manchester?"
"Both," he replied. "I had business in London this morning and I thought I’d come up here for a few days. I’ve heard a lot about the scene in Manchester so I figured it was worth checking out."
Nathan ordered a Coke and asked the other man if he wanted a drink. He said thanks and ordered a vodka tonic. When the drinks came, he smiled at Nathan and tapped their glasses together.
"I’m Brian," he said.
"Oh, hiya. Nathan." They shook hands and Nathan liked the way Brian’s skin felt. His grip was confident and tight but he didn’t hold on too long.
"Can I ask you something, Nathan?"
"Sure, yeah."
Brian smiled at him knowingly, fluttering his long lashes once. God, his eyes were lovely. "How old are you?" he asked.
Nathan cleared his throat. "Sixteen," he said, proudly. He had come to terms with the power of his youth.
Brian nodded, a little laugh escaping his wonderful, curvy lips. "I thought so. Honey, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve already got one of you at home."
"What does that mean?" Nathan said playfully.
Brian sighed, turning to him at the bar. "It means, I fucked a seventeen-year-old a few weeks ago and now the little bastard is stalking me. Even though you are very hot, I don’t think I want to start a collection of underage boys pining for me."
"And how old are YOU?" Nathan said, grinning sexily. He knew he had Brian’s attention and he was milking it for all it was worth.
"Twenty-nine," he answered. "Too damned old for you."
"Dunno," Nathan said. "My first was a bloke your age. That was only last year."
Brian breathed an acerbic laugh. "Good for him."
"Well, it was good for me, actually. He was excellent."
Brian looked at him and his brow wrinkled slightly. "You were fifteen?"
"Yeah."
"He was my age."
"Twenty-nine, yeah. He turned thirty a few months ago."
"Oh, you’re still in touch?" Brian asked, sarcastically.
"Yeah. He’s sort of . . . a friend. I mean, he’s got a boyfriend now, so I don’t see him like THAT anymore. But I see him around. We have dinner once in a while."
"How does his boyfriend feel about that?"
"He’s usually there, too. Vince won’t let me see Stuart on our own. I guess he’s worried that he might . . . you know, backslide."
Brian stood up straight suddenly, looking at Nathan with his hazel eyes a bit wider. "Did you say Vince and Stuart?"
"Yeah," Nathan frowned, uneasy at this turn in the conversation.
"That’s just too . . . Stuart JONES?" Brian clarified.
"Right. Stuart Jones and Vince Tyler."
Brian shook his head. "The first guy I talk to in Manchester and he turns out to be one of Stuart’s former lays. Unfuckingbelievable." He laughed as he finished his second drink, then he ordered another.
"How do you know Stuart, then?" Nathan continued.
"We met at my friend Kate’s house in New York."
"I met Kate," Nathan said, brightening. "She was quite nice. Pretty, I mean. Looked a bit like Nicole Kidman. I think she said she was here on business in Stuart’s office. They came down here to the Village together a few times."
"That’s our Kate," Brian muttered. "She’s the second biggest fag hag I’ve ever met. And I’ll tell her you said she looked like Kidman. She’ll love that."
"I didn’t know Stuart went to visit her in America," Nathan said. "They must be really good friends."
Nodding, Brian paid for his third drink and sipped it. "So, Nathan. Do you know if they’re in town? Stuart and Vince? Be cool to meet them for a drink if they’re around."
"I think so, yeah. Hazel-that’s Vince’s mother-said something about them being out of town this weekend, but it’s Monday night. They’re probably back. Do you have the phone number at their flat?"
"Yeah," Brian said. "I’ll give them a call. Thanks." He offered Nathan a quick but cool smile and then he turned around to survey the room again.
In a blur of pink chiffon and blonde hair, Alex pranced up to Brian and stood in front of him at the bar.
"Hello, sailor," he said.
"Hi," Brian answered, clearly trying not to giggle.
"You’re new, right? I was just watch-"
Nathan cut him off in mid-pitch. "Alex, this is Brian. He’s a friend of Stuart and Vince’s. He’s American." He figured that was all the information that would be required for Alex to put the breaks on his demonstration, but it didn’t work out that way.
"Oooohhhh, really, now? You know our wandering travelers. Well, I suppose they’re back, now. It is Monday, after all. How long can it take to propose?"
"Propose?" Brian said, his eyebrows lifting.
"I thought you said you were a friend," Alex teased, bitingly. "Shitface whisked our little Vinnie away to Scotland this weekend to pop the question. So romantic, I could just puke. We haven’t heard from them since they came back, though. Maybe Vince told him to fuck off!" He looked at Nathan and they both laughed outloud at the thought.
While they laughed, Brian finished his drink quickly, setting the empty glass down on the bar. He took a step toward the door, turning back to them with a polite smile.
"Listen, it was nice meeting you guys. Thanks for the drink, Nathan." He gave them a quick wave then weaved through the crowd and went up the stairs to the exit.
Alex dropped a hand on his hip and stared indignantly after Brian with his jaw open. "Well, excuse us, you knob! Yanks are so bloody rude!"
Nathan watched him turn the corner on the landing and go out the door, wondering just where that handsome American might be off to in such a hurry.
* * *
Brian:
He stepped out onto the sidewalk and crossed the foot traffic over to the wall. Taking out his cell phone, he had to think for a minute before he remembered all the numbers he had to dial to call the States. He turned toward the dark waters of the canal as he waited for the connection to be made.
"Katherine Stephani’s office."
"Hey, it’s Brian. Is she around?"
"Hi-where ARE you? You sound like you’re calling from a sewer tunnel in Guam?"
"I’m in a sewer tunnel in Guam," Brian retorted. He’d never liked Kate’s whiney assistant. "Can I speak to her, please?"
"Fine. Hold on."
He listened to the staticky musak on the line for a moment-a rendition of Peter Gabriel’s "Red Rain", he thought-and then Kate picked up.
"A sewer tunnel in Guam?" she said.
Looking over the wall into the inky canal water, Brian said, "more like the New Jersey turnpike. What’s up?"
"Nothing, I have a 5:00 that I’m totally unprepared for, but otherwise I’m good. Bri, are you really in Guam? This connection is very long distance."
"I told you. The jeep overheated and I’m standing on the side of the Jersey turnpike waiting for triple A. Thought I’d call you cuz I was bored. What’s new?"
Kate was having none of him. "Kinney, this call has more echo on it than the announcer at a Pirates’ game. WHERE ARE YOU?"
After a moment’s pause, he said, "Manchester."
Kate was silent for a moment, just like he knew she would be. Leaning against the wall, he braced himself for the ration of shit he felt certain was coming.
"I’m assuming you mean the one in England," she said, her voice disturbingly calm.
"Uh huh."
"And . . . what the fuck are you doing there, dare I ask?"
He flirted with a cutie walking by on the street then turned his attention back to her. "I was in London for a Lloyds’ meeting. Thought I’d drop in on our Stuart."
"You’re shit outta luck," Kate said. "He’s in Scotland."
"Is he?"
She paused again and he could hear her rifling papers. She must have been looking through her desk calendar. Then he heard her take a deep breath.
"Brian, I want you to promise me that you will not pester them."
"I’ve been having phone sex with them, Kate. I really don’t think they’ll mind all that much if I show up for a little face to face-all puns intended."
"I think you might be wrong," she said. "Phone sex is one thing, an actual threesome is another. They just got . . ." she trailed off, sighing.
"Engaged," he finished. "I heard."
"From whom?"
"Let’s just say they have a lot of friends here in town and that’s pretty tasty gossip. Anyway, do you have their address?"
"Yes, but I’m not giving it to you. Why don’t you visit Stuart at the office tomorrow? That’s neutral enough."
"So, they ARE back . . ."
Kate sighed and he could hear her frustration clearly down that long distance line. "You didn’t hear that from me," she said. "Now, listen. I don’t want you causing them any trouble, do you understand me? I swear to God, Brian, I’ll come over there and open your skull like a coconut."
"Such violence from such a pretty little girl," he teased. "Oh, and speaking of that, I met your little friend Nathan a minute ago. He wanted me to tell you he thought you looked like Nicole Kidman."
"You met that kid Nathan?" she said, bewildered. "Oddly, seducing the young is yet another thing you and Stuart have in common. Where did you trip over him?"
"Down here in their quaint little gay village on Canal Street. He says he met you here a few times, my sunny little hag."
"Fuck you, Kinney. You should consider yourself lucky to have me as friend. You’re such an asshole, I’m surprised anyone will be your friend."
He chuckled. "Show your love, then, Katey. Give me their address."
"No. Absolutely not. And because I refuse to let you try to weasel it out of me, I’m hanging up on you in two seconds. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding the address yourself, Brian. You are nothing of not resourceful." She hung up in his ear and Brian pocketed his phone.
"Fuck," he muttered. "She’s no fun at all." He sighed, looking up and down the street at the sea of faces passing each way. Just beyond the crowd, he spotted a phone booth. "Ah. Every city has a directory, right?" He went down the road a bit until he came to the phone booth, closing himself inside. He grabbed the grimy directory hanging from a chain under the phone and flipped through it for the J’s. Just like in any English speaking city’s phone directory, there were pages and pages of Jones’s, but none that fit the bill. "Of course he’s not listed," Brian said to himself. "I’M not listed, what was I thinking? Fine." He got out of the booth and went back down the street, figuring he’d have another drink and maybe a quick blowjob in one of those back rooms and then he’d come up with another plan.
Brian read the signs over each of the clubs and stopped in front of one that sounded nice when he said it out loud. Via Fossa. He went inside.
* * *
At 16 Mariner’s Court the phone rang four times before the machine picked it up. Vince’s voice spoke the outgoing greeting.
"Hiya, you’ve reached Stuart and Vince. We can’t take your call right now but please leave us a message and we’ll get back to you as quick as we can. Thanks."
After the beep, Kate Stephani left her rather frantic message.
* * *
Stuart:
At the bar at Via Fossa, Vince was just ordering his third gin and tonic. Apparently, he really was planning to get pissed that night. Stuart just sighed and sipped his wine, resigning himself to the fact that he would likely be up all night taking care of his drunken lover.
Obviously the tension of the engagement had been overwhelming to Vince. Stuart had been trying not to think about the things he said when they were arguing earlier. Vince had raised some disturbingly good points. Stuart figured all couples went through this sort of reaction on the heels of making a huge commitment, but he wondered if he and Vince really had the stuff to get through it. Turning to the barman, he ordered another glass of wine, thinking that getting a little drunk might not be such a bad idea after all.
Vince wandered up to him, already weaving slightly. He stood very close to Stuart at the bar and kissed him warmly.
"You’re not angry, are you?" he asked. His pupils were already huge.
Stuart smiled into those slightly crazed blue eyes. "Not at all. You?"
Vince shook his head. "I . . . I don’t know what got into me. All of a sudden, I actually . . . felt like . . ."
"You resented me," Stuart finished. "I think that might be normal."
"Yeah? Well, I didn’t like it one bit. I don’t want to feel that way."
Stuart kissed him again, that time a bit wet and seductive. "I’m almost positive it will pass. We just have to wait it out."
Vince responded to the sensual kiss and slipped his leg between Stuart’s, pressing his thigh up into his lover’s crotch. They covered each other’s mouths and snogged brazenly at the well-lit bar. Stuart giggled. He loved it when Vince got uninhibited like that. It was so sexy.
Lost in the hot kiss, Stuart almost didn’t notice when he felt the cool brush of leather against his bare forearm. He only opened his eyes because of the scent. On the most primal, instinctive level he recognized the smell of the man standing so close to his side. He froze and pulled back from his lover, his eyes widening as he turned to the left.
"Wanna play?" Brian Kinney said, grinning.
Stuart:
Stuart swallowed and his throat clicked audibly. Narrowing his gaze, he looked right into those fascinating hazel eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here, Brian? We had an agreement."
"The agreement was about doorsteps, Stuart. This is a bar." He spread his hands to indicate the crowded public space around them.
Suddenly Vince started laughing and Stuart turned to him just in time to see him step back and put his arms around Brian's neck, giving him a big hug.
"What a surprise!" he slurred. "Look at you. You're lovely!" He held Brian by the shoulders and looked him up and down appreciatively. "No wonder you fancied him, luv," he said to Stuart.
He didn't know if he should protest that remark as well as the fact that Vince was so blatantly flirting with the American, so Stuart didn't do anything. He just stood there with his heart pounding and picking up speed, feeling very much like he was about to be shoved off a dangerously steep cliff. The air around them had taken on an electric crackle.
"Do you want a drink?" Vince said, jovially. He flagged for the barman and ordered Brian a vodka tonic, as well as another round for the two of them. "What brings you to Manchester, then?"
Stuart couldn't tell if his lover was being naïve or if he was just really pissed and trying to make polite conversation. Brian leaned on the bar on Vince's outside, closing them into an intimate three with the friendly, drunken one in the middle. He felt Brian's fingers brush against his own on the polished counter.
"I had business in London and I thought I'd come up here and see if your little scene was as thriving as I've heard. It's nice, Canal Street. Lots of clubs."
"Yeah," Vince went on, leaning against Stuart so he could look back at Brian. "We first started coming here when we were sixteen."
"Really? Has it changed much?"
Stuart was watching Brian closely as he and Vince chattered away. He slipped his arm around his lover's waist possessively, parking his chin on Vince's shoulder.
"Not really," Vince answered. "Well, sometimes I think the clubs look smaller." He chuckled, happily. "You know how that is? When you get older, familiar things just seem to be smaller than when you were young."
"Let's hope that doesn't apply to physical anatomy," Brian quipped. He sipped his drink and returned Stuart's intense gaze.
"Well, clearly you have nothing to worry about in THAT area," Vince said, boisterously. He gave Brian a playful shove. "I can't believe you sent us that photo!! You are so bloody naughty!" He was cracking up, leaning back against Stuart with the force of his laughter.
Brian Kinney just smiled. "I really liked the photos you guys sent of you, Vince. I had no idea you were such a little hottie."
"Is that why you came?" Stuart said, coolly.
"Oh, I came several times because of that," Brian replied. "But, I'm assuming you're asking me why I came HERE."
Stuart gave him a cheeky smirk in response.
"Well, it's like I said. I was over here anyway, so I thought I might as well come up to Manchester. I thought you guys were out of town. Scotland, right?"
"Yeah!" Vince said, excitedly. "We went up to Loch Ness and I got to go on a boat with some scientists to look for the monster!"
Brian raised his eyebrows and smiled almost sweetly. There was something genuine and familiar about his expression that made Stuart think Brian might know someone very well who had an innocent, childlike streak like Vince's.
"And?" he asked.
"Well . . ." Vince glanced up at Stuart shyly. "I'm . . . well, it was fun." He turned to the bar and picked up his fresh drink, sipping it with a little smile on his face.
"Tell him," Stuart encouraged.
"No, it was . . . never mind." Vince was blushing and trying to hide his face in Stuart's shoulder. "I'm so sad! I'm sure it was nothing, but it was still really fun. For me."
Stuart laughed softly, shaking his head. "They had sonar on the boat and they think they saw a big black shape under the water."
"Cool," Brian said, seeming to mean it. "My best friend would love to do something like that. He'd be completely stoked."
"Well, tell him I think I saw her," Vince said, still blushing but a bit more confident then.
"I will. How was the rest of the trip?"
"Brilliant," Stuart said. "Yeah, it was lovely. Vince asked me to marry him."
Again Vince blushed, but that time he wasn't being shy. Just emotional. He kissed Stuart's lips warmly, rubbing their noses together. Stuart could smell the minty gin on his breath.
"Married," Brian mused. "Wow. Heavy stuff. I'm assuming you said yes."
"I did, yeah. I was going to ask him, in fact. Bastard beat me to it."
Brian laughed. "Aww. Must be nice, being all in love and shit."
Stuart pressed his body against Vince's. "Works for me."
Brian looked him right in the eye. "So, now that you're engaged . . . does that mean we don't get to play on the phone anymore?"
"'Course not!" Vince said, brightly. "Why would it mean that? Phone sex isn't cheating. It's harmless." He pressed back against Stuart with his whole body. "But . . . since you happen to be here in the flesh and all . . . we should at least, er, show you the sights. Manchester has some lovely gardens and museums." He paused then laughed out loud again, cracking himself up with his own wry sense of humor. Apparently.
Stuart laughed, as well, never being able to resist Vince's infectious giggles. "Right, gardens. We'll have to do that."
Brian watched them both with his keen, pretty eyes and just waited for them to stop laughing. "Actually, I'm not much of a garden person. I get hay fever. However, I would love to see your place. Just for the sake of having an image in my mind when we talk on the phone. I want to know where you're sitting and all."
"Oh," Vince said, turning to his lover with a playful smirk. "That CHAIR. We should show him the chair." He giggled again, holding Stuart's chin so he could kiss him.
Stuart batted his eyes at Brian. "Sorry about him. He's quite pissed."
He shrugged. "It's not bothering me. You know what they say about alcohol-that it's truth serum. `The truth comes out in wine' . . . I can't think of who said that."
"Pliny," Stuart said, smugly. "It's from the Latin-`in vino veritas'. The truth comes out in wine."
"Of course you would know that," Brian said, almost under his breath. "You and your high brow European education." It was a flirtation, that compliment, and he accompanied it with a long, slow blink for punctuation. "Intelligence is sexy."
Stuart smirked. "That's not intelligence, that's memorization."
Brian just smiled. "Well, I'm just waiting for whatever truth might come out of Vince right now."
Vince looked at him with his big blue eyes wide. "I can think of something I would love to share right now."
"Yeah?" Brian asked, softly, seductively. "What's that, honey?"
He nudged Stuart's ear with his nose and whispered to his lover. "Can we take him home?"
Stuart looked at him, right in his eyes, searching to see just how drunk his boyish lover really was. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," came the immediate reply. "In fact, I'm quite peckish. I'm feeling like a sandwich might be nice." Vince started giggling again and he turned around to face Brian. "Would you like to come back to ours?"
Brian's hazel eyes flitted up to Stuart's and stayed there. "Only if that's a mutual request."
Stuart's lips felt hot and he licked them, tasting Vince on his skin. "Will you promise to behave?"
"Absolutely not. I didn't come all the way to Manchester to behave, Stuey. If I'm going home with you two, then we're going to play serious ball. Otherwise, forget it."
"Right," Vince said, moving away from the bar. He grabbed Stuart's wrist and smiled lustfully into his eyes. "Come on, then. Let's go play." He tugged Brian's arm as well like an impetuous child wanting his parents to leave a boring grown-up party.
"Wait a second," Brian said, patiently. He held Vince's hand in his own almost sweetly and looked back at Stuart. "Are we agreed? We play seriously or we don't play at all?"
Stuart finished his drink and laced his fingers with those on Vince's other hand. "Fine. Fine, let's go."
Vince grinned and led the way out of the bar to the street.
The cool night air felt good on Stuart's skin but it chilled his bare arms a bit. It wasn't cold really, just moist and a bit foggy near the canal. He ran his fingers through his curls even though his hair never got frizzy in the wet English air. He was just preening for Brian's benefit. Vince went to the edge of the sidewalk and waved for a taxi.
"Are you sure you have no reservations?" Brian asked, stepping up close to whisper.
"Brian, sweetheart. It's not like I'm worried about you stealing my lover."
He grinned and his hazel eyes flashed golden in the light from a nearby streetlamp. "Maybe I'm trying to steal you."
"Fat chance, luv. You're not man enough."
The American chuckled. "The fuck I'm not. How would you know? Your experience with me is quite limited. We've never even kissed."
Vince got a cab and called to them to hurry up. The three of them piled into the taxi and Stuart told the driver their address. Vince sprawled out on the bench seat between them, his head against Stuart's chest and his legs draped over Brian's lap.
"I was thinking about you," Vince said. "On the plane ride back this morning. I was wondering where you were." He laughed, softly. "I feel like I conjured you or something."
"Yeah," Brian said. "I was thinking about you on the plane ride to Manchester from London this morning. Thinking about that one conversation we had when you were sucking Stuart's cock. I think about that a lot, actually. The way you made him feel so good he was breathless."
"I'll do that to you, as well," Vince purred, his voice low and almost commanding. "If you like."
"Oh, I like." Brian grinned and the air around them crackled again.
* * *
Brian:
As they rode up in the elevator at 16 Mariner's Court, the anticipation was nearly strangling him. Brian wanted both of them so badly, he was almost salivating. He'd had threesomes before-more than he could recall-but none had ever evoked this kind of response in him. He'd always been more attracted to one of the men in any given threesome, but this time . . . Brian just couldn't decide which of these two luscious Brits he wanted the most. And more than anything, he couldn't wait to WATCH them with each other. Naked, kissing, sucking, fucking each other. He couldn't wait to see Stuart come again. He couldn't wait to feel Vince sucking his cock.
Stuart rolled back the elevator gate and the three of them rounded the corner to the front door. The place reminded Brian of his own apartment a bit and he was looking forward to seeing the décor inside. It would be Stuart's taste because it was Stuart's place, but he was sure that after a year there would be plenty of Vince in the mix as well. Brian was interested in these two men. More so than he could recall ever being where casual fucks were concerned. He wanted to know them, discover them, find out what made them tick. Mostly, he was dead curious about how they made their relationship work-with Stuart being so wild and Vince seeming to be so soft. There must be more to it than was visible on the surface and for whatever reason, this was a puzzle that had Brian Kinney's full attention.
Once inside, Stuart closed the heavy door behind them. Vince walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out a bottle of cold water.
"Brian, do you want a drink?" Stuart asked.
"Water's good," he said. "Can I use the little boy's room?"
"Up there, through the bedroom," Stuart said, pointing.
Brian went up the steps to the bedroom, casting his gaze around quickly, taking in what he could. Clean lines, two wardrobes, a dresser with nine drawers, two end tables around the king size bed, loads of blankets and comforters, soft white sheets, six pillows, the phone on the night table to the right, a bottle of Kama Sutra oil beside it, a watch and a set of cufflinks on the shiny surface. Wondering which one of them wore French-cuff shirts, he walked through and flipped on the light in the bathroom, not bothering to close the door.
While he relieved himself, he looked around at the stuff in the bathroom. Everything was orderly and put away and there were two sinks, two cabinets, tons of counter space and very little clutter. The walls and counters were done in high-end dark gray faux marble, the fixtures were all chrome. Nice. Inside the large shower he could make out the labels on the shampoo bottles-none of which he recognized. Must be European products. He zipped up and went to go wash his hands like a good boy, but he almost ran smack into Vince standing there.
"Hiya," the cute little blondish boy said. He was pretty drunk and flirting like crazy and Brian felt his blood rushing all over his body.
"Hey," he said, softly, stepping right up.
"Thought you might need some help."
"I managed . . ." Brian touched his forehead to Vince's as the adorable Englishman slowly unzipped his trousers. He looked down and watched as the other man's nice hands worked deftly on his fly, pushing the fabric back and tugging his underwear down to expose his hardening cock.
"I've heard a lot about this," Vince whispered. His fingers stroked Brian's skin just inside his hipbone and he shivered, feeling his nipples tighten. "Can't wait to see it in full bloom." He circled Brian's erection with his fingers and rubbed it slowly until it hardened in his grasp.
Lifting Vince's chin, Brian kissed him, opening his lips and reaching into the other man's mouth with his wet tongue. Vince tasted of gin and lime and his warm saliva was sweet. He was a great kisser, which didn't surprise Brian. He would need to be great at everything to keep Stuart's attention for that long.
Vince sucked his lips and nibbled on the bottom one, moaning deep in his throat. He wet his fingers on the weeping head of Brian's cock then stroked the tingling organ very lightly, making him tremble and sigh. He couldn't wait to be sucked. He couldn't wait to come. Grabbing Vince's wrist, he pulled that tormenting hand away and looked in his pretty blue eyes.
"You're not going to be a cock tease, are you? Your sexy lover is a god-awful tease."
"He wasn't teasing you, Brian," Vince said, his voice rough with lust. "He was trying to be faithful to me."
Stuart's figure darkened the bathroom doorway behind Vince and the hot brunette leaned on the counter, watching. Brian looked in his dark blue eyes.
"Am I in for some punishment here?" he whispered.
"Would you like to be punished?" Stuart whispered back.
Brian thought about that for a moment as Vince slid down on his knees in front of him. When he felt that hot, wet mouth slip over the head of his cock, he had to grab the counter for support. Christ, it felt good.
"We can torture you with pleasure," Stuart went on. "That's Vince's specialty." He stood up and took two slow, stalking steps forward until he was standing right behind his kneeling lover, his legs touching Vince's back. Stuart's fingers gently toyed with Vince's earlobes-something he obviously loved because he groaned deep in his throat at the contact. The humming made Brian's cock throb. "Or we can just torture you because . . . you're a malicious bastard." He couldn't fight the grin on his face and Brian knew he was joking.
Sighing through the intense pleasure he was feeling, Brian licked his lips. "As long as there's no hot wax involved or any piercing-do what you want. I pretty much like everything."
Stuart lowered his chin and moved in even closer, stepping out a bit so his legs were on either side of Vince. Bending forward, he extended his tongue and licked Brian's lips, wetting them both with hot saliva, then he slid that tongue into Brian's mouth and kissed him deeply. That was the first time he'd ever kissed Stuart Jones- even after all that physicality they went through at Kate's house in New York. Brian sighed into it, enjoying the taste of Stuart's mouth. His hips lifted into that luscious sucking and he felt his cock shudder in Vince's mouth, swelling and lengthening to its full capacity. Every nerve was alive and he felt a light sweat break out all over his body.
Stuart moved back, breathing hard, tongue gathering all of Brian's flavor off his own lips. He gently tugged Vince's hair in the back and his lover let go of Brian's cock, looking up at the sexy Irishman.
"Come on," Stuart said to them. "Let's move to the bed." He turned around and tugged off his dark blue shirt as he walked into the bedroom.
Brain watched his lean form as he stepped out of his trousers and kicked off his underwear. Then Vince was in front of him, taking off his own shirt. He turned back to Brian in the narrow hallway in front of the bathroom sinks and held out his hand.
"Comin'?"
"Repeatedly, I hope," Brian said, grinning.
Vince chuckled, shaking his head. He kept his hand out until Brian took it and they went into the bedroom together.
Stuart had turned down the bed and the fluffy covers and pillows were terribly inviting. He was stretched out on a pile of white blankets with his head propped up on two pillows. His dark curls framed his fabulous face and his sapphire colored eyes twinkled as he grinned. His body was perfect, just like Brian remembered-lean and sculpted, almost smooth except for a soft spray of dark hair on his belly that looked so touchable. His healthy skin was lightly tanned. His nipples were dark and edible, half-erect and looking like they needed to be sucked. Stuart's right hand caressed the swollen head of his big cock as he lay there and Brian couldn't take his eyes off it.
"Vince, undress our guest," he said, more as a suggestion than an instruction. Brian still couldn't get a sense of which of them was dominant in their relationship-if, in fact, either of them were.
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