DeAnna Zankich
Sequel is | Sweet Redemption
Summary: Stuart, Vince and Brian circle each other again and the circle continues to get smaller and smaller.
Warnings: None
He closed his office door, then put on his headset to take Kate's call. "Hello, is this the help line?" Brian said, flopping into his chair. "I need to speak to a counselor."
"Legal, sexual, personal or business?" she said and he could hear her typing as she spoke.
"I need to hear the voice of reason on a personal/sexual matter," Brian said.
"Stay away from Stuart and Vince. There. That'll be two hundred bucks. Please pay my receptionist on your way out."
Brian sighed. "Those are the right words, but I'm having a lot of trouble following that edict."
"God. What happened now?"
"Stuart invited me to the wedding on email, which I just knew Vince hadn't authorized, so I called Vince and asked him."
"Were your suspicions correct?" Kate said.
"Uh huh. Apparently, I got the little Irish hottie busted--spanked, even."
"Oooh . . ." she cooed. "They do love that brush."
"Uh, this time, Stuey got it with a Gucci belt."
Kate laughed. "You've forced them to progress to leather, Brian! You should be proud of such degenerate influence."
"I'm sure it wasn't the first time Vince wielded a belt. To hear Stuart tell it, that innocent blue eyed boy of his was quite the skillful daddy. And I know from personal experience that he's quite a skillful fuck."
"Tch, tch, tch," Kate said. "I wonder what else our Vince has up his sleeve."
"You and me both. Anyway, so they call me all drunk and goofy last night and Vince is like `don't come to the wedding, I'm not comfortable with it' and then they hang up--only to call me BACK a few hours later for some fiber optic porn."
"Saucy. Then what? Did Vince change his mind?"
"No, I was on the line with Stuart . . . and I was being a shit and I asked him if he would consider seeing me alone. He said he wasn't sure he wouldn't."
"Duh," Kate said. "That's it? That's what you're upset about? You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"
"No, but . . . he opened the door, didn't he? And now I'm standing there dying to go through it but knowing I shouldn't."
"And . . . why shouldn't you again?" Kate said. "I mean, I'm not trying to be a smartass, I'm really curious."
"Because Vince doesn't want me to," Brian said slowly, thinking he was restating the obvious.
She sighed. "Well, I don't think that's true."
"You don't?"
"I think he's just as willing as Stuart to have you come over there and play with them, but Vince . . . well, he needs a little more convincing of his own desires. More accurately, he seems to need a lot of permission to act on them. At least that's my impression of
him."
Brian turned back and forth in his chair, tenting his fingers in front of him. "You're saying Vince really DOES want me to come over there?"
"That's what I think. But he needs to be told that it's okay to want that. You might have to leave that up to Stuey. Or . . ."
"That's the stuff I'm looking for, Doctor Stephani," Brian said. "Or what?"
Kate chuckled. "God, his mother was so right about me. That Hazel certainly called a spade a spade. Anyway, OR . . . you could woo the reluctant party. In fact, that would be my advice to you, young Brian. Pour some sugar on Vince."
"He's sweet enough already."
"Ah, yes," she said. "But he needs a little bit of a glazed topping just for that extra treat."
Brian grinned as his imagination ran with that picture. "Right, so if you were me--what would you do?"
"Send him something," she said. "A prezzie just for him. And call him, email him, send him naked pictures of yourself with notes telling him you're thinking of him."
"I've already done that," he said.
Kate laughed. "Of course you have, what was I thinking?"
"Do you really think that'll work?"
"It's a solid shot," she said. "If you want to get your mitts on Stuart again, you'll have to go through his very possessive warden."
"At least it won't be an unpleasant job," Brian said. "I like Vince."
"Me, too. And who knows, Bri. Maybe he'll take that Gucci belt to your little hiney if you're really nice--or if you're the right kind of naughty."
He breathed a laugh. "Yeah . . . I haven't had anyone take a strap to my ass in a long time. Might be fun. Thanks for the advice, counselor. Everything all right with you?"
"Good as can be. Hey, if you go over for the wedding, you can be my date. That is . . . unless you want to bring The Baby."
"I'll get back to you on that," Brian said. "Talk to you later."
"Bye."
Brian hung up and sat at his desk for a moment just pondering. Glancing at his watch, he stood up and grabbed his coat. On his way out of the office, he told Cynthia he'd be gone for a few hours. He had some shopping to do.
* * *
Stuart:
He'd been unable to concentrate all day at work and had ended up leaving early saying he had a headache. When he got home, he took a long shower then put on those silky pajama bottoms Vince liked. He opened a bottle of wine and sprawled out on the couch to watch telly until his lover came home from work.
After about an hour, Stuart started feeling impatient. Something was on his mind and he wanted to talk about it. He called Vince on his mobile.
"Hi, lover," Vince answered. "All right?"
"Yeah. I'm home. Had to get outta that office."
"What's wrong?"
"Just . . . anxious. When are you coming home?"
"About an hour. I have to finish training a new cashier."
"Is he nice?"
"It's a girl, but I reckon she's pretty, yeah."
"Oh." Stuart said. He sat there swirling his wine in his glass for a moment not sure if he should say what was on his mind or wait until Vince came home.
"Do you want me to pick up dinner?" Vince asked, clearly sensing the hesitation.
"Dunno. I'm not hungry yet."
"Okay. Then . . . I'll see you in a little while?"
"Okay."
"Stuart, what's wrong? You sound strange."
"Nothin'," he lied. "I'm just . . . thinking. I miss you. Been thinking about you all day."
"I always think about you," Vince said, flirting. He lowered his voice and almost whispered into the phone. "I can't wait to kiss you. Do you know that I look forward to kissing you more than anything else?"
"More than shagging me?" Stuart said playfully.
"More than that."
"More than sucking me?"
"Even more than that, if you can imagine."
"Hm . . . I thought you liked the sleeping bit the best."
"Oh, I like all of it best," Vince said. "But I really love to kiss you. I like kissing your tummy right under your navel. You're so soft there and you smell so good."
"Stop it," he groaned. "Just come home quick as you can."
"Luv, why did you call? Sounded like you wanted to tell me something."
"No . . . I just wondered if . . ." Stuart hedged.
"Wha'?"
"Well . . . do I have to be bad to get spanked?"
Vince chuckled. "Yes," he said. "You have to be bad before you get punished. Makes sense, doesn't it?"
"Hmmm . . . are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
Stuart laughed. "All right. You made the rule. Don't say I didn't warn you. See you when you get home."
"Bye." Vince hung up and Stuart could hear the smile in his lover's voice.
First, he tried Brian at his office but his brisk, businesslike secretary said he was out for a few hours. She offered to get her boss on his cell phone, but Stuart didn't want her listening in on the call so he declined. After trying to no avail to get Brian's mobile number out of her, Stuart left a message with her and moved on to Plan B.
Carrying his wineglass and the cordless phone up to the bedroom, Stuart laid on the bed and called Kate at work.
"Katherine Stephani's office."
"Hello, it's Stuart Jones. Is she available?" He'd never liked Kate's assistant so he was always cool to her, even though they spoke a handful of times every day.
"She's just finishing a call, Mr. Jones. Will you hold?"
"Sure." He stretched out his legs and hooked his bare toes on the edge of the night table. In about ten seconds, Kate picked up. "Hi, bunny. I'm slammed--what's up?"
"Can I get Brian's mobile number? I need to call him and his assistant won't give it to me."
She laughed. "That Cynthia is almost as protective of him as your Sandra is of you. I'm surprised you don't have it, anyway."
"I have all his numbers but that one."
"Okay . . . it's area code 412-931-0900. What are you up to with him, anyway?"
"I just want to call him," Stuart said, knowing he was being cryptic and knowing Kate would be intrigued.
"Mm hm. I don't have time to get into this now, but I want to know what you're up to. However, I take no responsibility for giving you that number, okay?"
"I never spoke to you today," he said grinning, loving her and her mad logic.
"Good boy. I gotta go, doll. I have that other call on hold. Please don't get in too much trouble. Love you."
Stuart hung up, then punched in the number she'd given him along with all the necessary long distance codes. Like all mobile phones, it took a bit longer for the line to connect, but it finally did.
Brian answered on the third ring.
* * *
Brian:
Leaning over the glass counter in a tiny antique jewelry store just off Liberty Avenue, Brian waited while the proprietor opened the case with his keys. The old man's brown eyes were keen and he'd noticed Brian's watch and his expensive suit. He took out the velvet-covered pallet Brian had asked to see and set it on top of the case.
"These were made in 1877 for a plantation owner in Atlanta," the man said, gently plucking one of the pewter cuff links off the velvet. He handed it to Brian to inspect just as his cell phone chirped in his pocket.
Brian took the heavy little piece of jewelry and turned it in his fingers, holding it up to the light. His phone rang a second time and he reached for it, answering it on the third ring.
"This is Brian."
"Hey."
He couldn't stop the grin when he heard Stuart's voice. "Stuart. What are you doing now, you naughty little Irish boy?"
"Calling you. What are you doing?"
"I'm shopping, actually," Brian said. "For your boyfriend."
"My boyfriend? Why is that?"
"I want to get him a gift."
"Why?" Stuart persisted.
"Because . . . I have a plan," Brian said, holding the cuff link up close to his eye to get a better look at the fine detail of the engraving.
"What sort of plan?" Stuart purred.
Licking his lips, Brian handed the cuff link back to the proprietor. "I'll take them. Thank you," he said, then he turned his attention back to Stuart. "Well, I was thinking that if I could get on Vince's good side, he might change his mind about me coming to see you."
"He won't," Stuart said. "He's quite serious about that decision. He really thinks you love me."
"I can't stand you," Brian teased.
"That's what I told him!" Stuart giggled in that way of his--pulling his voice back through the laugh so it sounded a little like he was gasping. "He doesn't believe me."
"Well . . . he just needs to be convinced. Where is he now?"
"At work."
"I'm assuming you're not with him then."
"Nope," Stuart said. Brian could hear him drinking something and for some reason he pictured those plum colored lips wrapped like a gentle kiss around the rim of a wineglass.
"Are you being bad because you want to get spanked again?" Brian asked and the proprietor gulped slightly as he put the velvet pallet back into the case and locked it with his keys.
Stuart didn't respond right away but Brian could still hear him breathing.
"He said I had to be bad if I wanted to be spanked," Stuart told him. "So . . . I'm calling you."
"Well, I'm standing in the middle of a jewelry store right now, honey. I can't exactly give you the attention you require. Can you wait a few minutes while I complete my purchase?"
"What are you buying?" he said, his tone slightly cool.
"A nice pair of antique cuff links," Brian said. "He's the one who wears the French cuffed shirts, right? I've never seen you in one."
"I'm usually naked when you see me," Stuart pointed out. "But, yeah . . . Vince wears those."
"Well, I thought he might like to have a really nice set of cuff links. Besides, you can have the pleasure of forbidding him to wear them."
Stuart snickered seductively. "I wear that bracelet sometimes . . . and have a wank with it on."
"I thought you might," Brian said, leaning against the counter to hide the hard-on he was getting. He handed the proprietor his American Express Gold card and the man turned around to run it through the register. While his back was turned Brian adjusted his
cock, moving it so it reached up his belly alongside his fly. "Stuart, I want you to hold that very thought for me, okay?"
"Okay . . ." he said.
"This nice man is ringing up my purchase and then I'm going to go out to my car where we can talk more privately."
"You really shouldn't spend your money," Stuart said. "I'm not going to let him wear those."
"Well, I should hope not," Brian said. "Fair's fair." He smiled at the old man as he put his signature on the bill of sale. The man gave him the cuff links in a nice velvet box and put it all into a small shopping bag.
"Thank you, Mr. Kinney," he said, trying to be as polite as possible considering Brian had just dropped close to a thousand dollars in his store.
"Thank you," Brian said, taking the bag and turning toward the door. He put on his sunglasses and got out his keys. "Still with me?" he said into the phone.
"'Course. Are you planning to have a wank in your car while you talk to me?" Stuart said.
"Wouldn't be the first time I got off in a car with you." Brian crossed the street to the lot where his Jeep was parked. He waved to the attendant who was sitting in the kiosk reading a Spanish newspaper. "So, where are you and what are you wearing?" he asked
Stuart.
"On the bed in my silk pajama bottoms."
"That's it?"
"Yeah," Stuart said. "Vince likes these because you can see everything moving around when I walk."
Brian laughed. "Mmmm . . . nice image. Did I see a bottle of Kama Sutra oil in your goodie drawer?" He let himself into his car on the driver's side and closed the door. Scooting the seat back a bit, Brian glanced around to see if anyone could see him. To his sides were two other parked vehicles--an SUV on the right, a Volvo station wagon on the left. The kiosk was behind him but the opening faced the street, away from his Jeep. The attendant looked pretty involved in his newspaper, anyway. In front was a row of low shrubbery and a chain link fence, then across the road was a high-rise office
building.
"Yeah, I've got that oil," Stuart said. "Want me to use it?"
"Yes. Give me a second to get situated here. I'm right outside an office building and if any of those people in there decide to look out their window, they're gonna get an eyeful of me jerking off."
Stuart laughed. "Oh my God . . . Brian, don't get arrested. I can call you back later."
"Oh, no. We're doing this now." He pulled down the visor so at least his face would be concealed in the event someone in that building DID look down. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and took down the zipper, moving his shirttails out of the way. With a few
more adjustments, Brian had the waistband of his shorts pushed down and his cock in his hand. Being exposed like that was a deadly turn- on and he had to struggle to keep from giggling.
"I've got the oil," Stuart told him. "I'm taking off my pajamas so I can be naked while I talk to you."
"I wish I was there . . ." Brian purred, his fingertips toying with the slit of his cockhead. "I'd be licking your nipples right now and making my way down to tongue your cock. I fucking love your cock, Stuart . . ."
"The feeling is very mutual," the Irishman said.
"I want to talk about that bracelet," Brian said. "You said you like to wear it when you masturbate . . ."
"Yeah . . ." Stuart breathed. "Don't tell Vince . . ."
"Of course not. This conversation is just for us."
"Mmm . . . I like to put it around my cock and rub the gold up and down the shaft."
"Oh . . . yeah . . ." Brian grinned, letting his head back on the seat. "That's fucking great."
"I got spunk all over last week," Stuart continued, giggling. "It was such a mess."
Brian laughed. "I'm sure it'll come off. Have you got the oil there?"
"Yeah . . ."
"Put some on your nipples and rub it in. Keep rubbing it around until it heats up." Brian licked his lips and stroked his swelling erection slowly.
"It burns a little . . ." Stuart said, almost whispering. "Mmmm . . . feels so good . . ."
"That's it, baby . . . Put a little on your cock now. Just on the tip. Rub it into the slit." He waited, listening to Stuart's deep breathing. When he started to moan again, Brian smiled. "Nice?"
"Oh, yes . . ."
"Now rub it all over your cock. Make yourself really hard, Stuart." Brian's fingers tightened around his own cock and he increased his speed a bit, paying close attention to the sensitive head. Once he felt the first tickle of his impending orgasm, he stopped and just held his big cock in his hand to keep it warm.
"Brian?" Stuart said softly.
"I'm here, baby. Tell me what you're doing."
"I'm so hard . . . I can . . . feel you licking my pucker . . . I can feel how tight your arse was when I fucked you . . . almost like a little virgin . . ."
"God, I looooooved that . . . the way you two switched . . . oh, fuck, that was so hot . . . you're boyfriend is an excellent lay."
"Yeah, no shit," Stuart said, laughing softly.
"Stuart, are your fingers all slick with that hot oil?"
"Yes . . ."
"Reach down and put your fingers in your ass." Brian held his stiff cock at the base and gently bounced the swollen head against his belly. The taut skin pulled softly, stimulating the nerve endings deliciously. He rubbed his cock up and down once, then went back to
that gentle pulsating, shivering slightly from the pleasure. "I want you to imagine my tongue in your ass," he said. "Just like that morning in New York when you were fighting me . . ."
Stuart moaned deeply. "Naughty, naughty Brian . . ."
"You were so pissed off at me," Brian went on, feeling his anus contract and his balls tighten. "You were like a wild little cat."
"You . . ." Stuart gasped. "Were so bad that day . . ."
"How does that feel, baby?"
"Mmm . . . so good . . . the oil is so warm . . . oh, God . . . I have to come."
"Keep your fingers inside--" Brian began rubbing his cock with long, quick strokes. "--press your prostate . . . and wait for me . . ." He could hear Stuart's breath pulling in and out of his chest in deep draughts and he concentrated on the sound. Brian's balls began to boil and his cock tingled and shuddered as he rubbed it. When Stuart started groaning on the other end of the line, Brian's orgasm was right there. He shot semen up across the steering wheel and against the window and then he cried out from the intensity of the final contraction. "Oh, fuck!"
Stuart started giggling through his deep breaths and then Brian was laughing, too. "I can't believe I just did that," he said, glancing around again. Everything was just as it was before they began--two cars parked on either side of him, the attendant in the kiosk still
concentrating on his newspaper and that office building with all its windows still there in front.
"No one saw you?" Stuart said.
"I don't think so. Not that I really care. Most likely it would be the best thing they'd seen in ages."
He could hear Stuart chuckling and then he sighed, groaning contentedly. "Right. I'm going. I need a nap now."
"Okay, cutie. Hope you get the punishment you're looking for."
"Oh," he said. "I'm sure I will. See ya."
"See ya." Brian hung up and dropped the phone into his jacket pocket, then he proceeded to right the rest of his clothing. He grabbed a tissue out of the glove box and cleaned off the window and the steering wheel, laughing softly to himself the whole time. He hadn't done anything like that since high school and he'd lie to say it hadn't been a complete blast.
Checking his watch, he saw that it was only 2:15. He could still grab some lunch and get back to the office by 3:00. Pulling out of the lot, Brian waved to the attendant again then he headed off down the road.
* * *
Vince:
At 7:30, he came home to a silent flat. Lights were on in the lounge and kitchen, but there was no movement anywhere. He took off his coat and went up to the bedroom to get undressed. That was when he saw Stuart curled up on the bed, fast asleep under the white comforter.
Crawling gingerly onto the mattress, Vince laid down beside his lover and just watched him for a moment. Stuart was completely out, his breathing slow and even. His curls were messed up and almost covering his eyes and his dark full lips were slightly parted. Vince couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing those lips very lightly. Stuart's satiny curls tickled his nose and his forehead and in that close proximity Vince caught the faint scent of their Kama Sutra oil.
Upon contact, Stuart sighed and shifted, his fingers coming up to his eyes and rubbing them. He moaned a little like he always did when he first woke up, then he slowly opened his eyes.
"Hiya," Vince said. "You look so lovely sleeping."
Stuart smiled at him then he stretched, scooting over on the mattress to press against Vince's body.
Vince lifted the comforter to reach under it and then he saw the phone--lying there on the sheet beside Stuart's body. He picked it up and held it by its protruding antenna, looking at his lover with raised eyebrows.
"What were you doing with this?"
Stuart rolled onto his back and lowered his chin, chewing the edge of his thumbnail like a little kid. "Nothin'," he said, barely suppressing a grin.
"Ah, come on, then. You can tell Vince . . . what were doing with the phone right next to you under the blanket?"
Stuart giggled devilishly. "I was talking to Brian," he said, almost petulantly. "You said I had to be bad to get spanked . . ."
"Yes, I said that, didn't I?" Vince sat up and put the phone back in its cradle, then he looked over his shoulder at his lover. "Did you and Brian have a wank?"
"Yeah . . ."
Vince shook his head, then he did the math for the time difference. "What, was he at work?"
"No . . . he was in his car." Stuart chuckled. "In a parking lot in broad daylight."
Vince laughed incredulously. "Blimey! Did anyone see him?"
"Not that he said." Stuart sat up and crawled into Vince's lap, wrapping the comforter around them. He was naked and his cock was swelling beautifully, reaching for Vince as Stuart straddled his hips. "Can I have a kiss?"
Vince's fingers teased his lover's thighs, stroking the soft hairs and warm skin. Tilting his head, he kissed Stuart gently, lovingly. Stuart's body was warm from sleep and he felt like a decadent, life- size toy in Vince's arms.
Sighing, Vince pulled him close and hugged him while they kissed. "I just want to make love to you," he whispered. "I don't have the energy to give you a spanking."
"All right . . ." Stuart said, sounding only a little disappointed. He breathed against Vince, kissing him deeply. "Make love to me, then. I'll take a raincheck for the belt."
Rolling over on top of his lover, Vince sighed with relief. It wasn't really that he didn't have the energy--it was simply that he didn't feel the least bit angry. What he felt was a deep sense of possessiveness that was manifesting in a wave of longing. He wanted
to be as close to Stuart as possible--touch him everywhere, be inside him, breath air into him, taste every inch of him. It was almost as though he could feel Brian there on his lover's skin . . . there in his breath and on his tongue. Brian Kinney was like a ghost in their bed and Vince realized he had no desire to have him exorcised.
* * *
Brian:
Justin walked in at around seven and Brian was just finishing getting dressed to go meet the boys at the diner.
"Hey," the kid said, peeking around the slatted door into the bedroom. His eyes moved up and down Brian's body with unabashed lust. "You look great."
"Thanks." Brian checked his look in the full-length mirror once more; black jeans, black boots and a close fitting, long-sleeved red shirt. He reached under the shirttails to touch the smooth polished leather of his black Gucci belt before he grabbed his jacket and
headed for the door.
"Going out?" Justin said brightly as he set his book bag on the couch. He was still wearing his school uniform and that god-awful tie. Brian found that uniform erotic and had actually considered doing the kid while he was wearing it--but that fucking tie always
wrecked the fantasy.
"Yeah. Going for dinner. Wanna come?"
The boy smiled but he tried to hide it. "No, thanks. I've got tons of homework. See you later?"
"Yeah," Brian said. He reached into his pocket for his wallet and took out a twenty. He set the bill on the kitchen counter on his way to the door. "Order something to eat. There's nothing here."
"Thanks," Justin said. "Have fun."
Brian looked back, just watching the kid for a moment.
"What?" he asked.
"Justin, did your parents ever spank you?"
The kid breathed a laugh, then leaned against the couch. "Do I need a spanking, Brian?"
He smirked. "Not yet, but I'm sure you will eventually. I was just wondering. Did they?"
Justin shook his head. "No, just the odd slap across the face for mouthing off. The corporal punishment thing was too unPC for my folks. How come you're asking?"
Shaking his head, Brian opened the door and stepped through it. "Nothing. Just something I was thinking about at lunch today. See you later." He rolled the heavy door on its hinge and closed it after him.
Squeezed into their usual booth at the diner, Brian picked at his straw wrapper distractedly. Emmett was telling a story about how he almost got into a fight with some idiot at a gas station that day and the tale had nearly reached its climax.
"And then I said to the guy `well, the world would be a much better place with one less homophobic asshole running around' and he rears back like he's going to punch me!"
Brian glanced at him at that point, waiting to see what happened next. When he looked up, he saw that Michael had been staring at him. Most likely the whole time.
"Did he punch you?" Ted asked in a distressed tone.
"He would have knocked me out if I hadn't ducked!" Emmett said, hands flailing. "But he swung so hard, he stumbled into a bunch of empty metal trash cans by one of the pumps--Christ, you should have heard the racket! Served that bastard right. Brian!" he said sarcastically. "Nice to have you with us. Was I keeping you awake?"
"Whatever," Brian grumbled. "I was listening to you. Did that jerk come after you again?"
"I wouldn't know," Emmett said. "I'm a fag, honey, not Evander Holyfield. I was long gone by the time he got up."
Ted looked at Brian speculatively. "You've hardly said a word all night. Are you all right?"
"Yeah." He glanced across the table again and saw Michael still
looking at him. Brian squirmed a little. "I guess I'm just quiet
today."
"Well," Emmett said. "The excitement of reliving that tale made me have to pee. Be right back." He got up and sauntered off to the restrooms at the back of the diner.
Brian looked at Michael directly, returning his keen gaze. "You're staring," he said.
"You're thinking about that Stuart guy," Michael returned. "You've got that LOOK."
"What look? What are you talking about?"
"That look you get when you're thinking about that Stuart guy. I told you, you get kinda . . . sad. Okay, it's not really sad, it's more . . ."
"Wistful," Ted offered. "And who's Stuart?"
"He's a friend," Brian said irritably. "And I've never looked `wistful' once in my life."
Ted chuckled and looked away.
"Did you talk to him?" Michael asked.
Taking a deep breath, Brian scooted down in his seat. He picked up the straw wrapper and started tearing it into little pieces. "Yeah," he said softly, just for Michael. "I'll tell you later."
"Tell him now," Ted said in that crabby way of his, moving out of the booth. "I have to call a client, anyway. I'll be back in a minute." He took out his cell phone and started for the front door of the diner.
Michael leaned forward. "There, you've successfully run off all our friends with your sparkling mood. Now talk to me."
"I'm not in a bad mood," Brian defended. "They're just being a couple of oversensitive queens tonight."
Michael just stared at him. "What's going on?"
Brian looked down, away from his friend's open, searching eyes. There was something so generous about Michael's expression--so tolerant and patient. It was almost terrible.
"I think I'm in trouble, Mikey," he said softly.
"I told you. You like that guy."
"I don't know if it's just him. I think it's . . . the situation. Both of them. The way they are, the things we did . . . it was sort of--deep. I don't want to get involved but I can't seem to stop myself. It's like an addiction."
"What are you getting involved with? What happened? Aren't they getting married?"
Brian cleared his throat. "Yeah, in June. Stuart just keeps pulling me in and Vince isn't pushing me away. At least not hard enough."
"Do you want him to push away?" Michael said.
"Well," Brian sighed. "I want SOMEONE to do the right thing. Of course, I can't be counted on for that. And Stuart can't, either. So the responsibility falls to Vince. If he doesn't put his foot down, then I'm just going to keep . . ." He shook his head. "It's
too tempting. I don't know what it is about this, Mikey. I can't stay away."
"The sex is THAT good?" he said, his brow knitting.
"Uh huh. It's crazy . . . it's all . . . primal and wet and urgent. I don't know how to explain it."
"And what about Boy Wonder? What does he think about all this?"
"It's none of his business." Brian frowned, shifting in his seat. He didn't like talking about Justin with Michael. Those conversations always ended badly. "Anyway, I'll work it out. I'm just . . . never mind."
"Are you going over there for their wedding?" Michael asked.
"I don't think so. Vince asked me not to."
"So he IS pushing you away."
"Not hard enough. Like I said. And since he's not shoving with all his might, I'm just sort of not hearing him. Until he shows me that he really means it, I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing."
"Cruising his fiancé." Michael looked at him with those wide-open eyes full of disappointment. "That's wrong, Brian."
"I know," he said. "Believe me. I know." Brian let out a long sigh and settled back in his seat.
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