Page 4 (continued)
DeAnna Zankich
Sequel to | Kisses Like Wine
Summary: Stuart has a rough talk with his mother and Brian looms on Vince's horizon. Stuart finally gets that spanking he's been waiting for. Brian uses his imagination and reaches into the boys' relationship from all the way across the pond. Brian, Stuart and Vince spend the weekend together. Stuart reflects on the changes in his life and gets prepared for the next phase. Brian takes his leave, but is he gone for good? Meanwhile, back in the shower . . .
Warnings: S&M
Author Notes: Extensive notes, please see story. Archivist Note, story split into two parts for easier loading.
Spoilers: General for both UK and US shows.
"Vince . . ." he whispered and for a moment, Vince wasn't sure Brian had actually spoken. "Come inside him . . . fill him up . . ." he said, then he lowered back down and continued sucking Stuart's cock greedily.
"Oh my God," Vince heard himself say and then his eyes did closed of their own volition. His body tingled and vibrated and he felt his anus clench as the first contraction of his orgasm tore through him. The pleasure was radiant and his semen burst out of his cock in hot blasts. He felt the wetness inside Stuart's body and he moaned as their connection became even more slick from the natural lubricant.
He intended to keep rubbing until Stuart came but suddenly Brian pulled his lover off Vince's spent cock and flipped Stuart over, face down on the couch. A bit roughly Brian shoved Stuart's legs apart and reached under him with his strong hands, lifting him up away from the cushion with his hand on Stuart's tummy.
Vince watched, gasping, as Brian drove his tongue into Stuart's wet, raw anus and lapped the opening hungrily. He could see his own spunk running down the crevice toward Stuart's tight balls and he reached out with his thumb to gather a big drop of the creamy liquid. Brian moved back just long enough to suck Vince's thumb clean and then he dove in again, tongue fucking and cleaning Stuart's hole ravenously.
Glancing down, Vince realized both his partners still had yet to come. He moved on the couch so he was crouching on his knees and then he reached under his lover with his left hand until he got hold of Stuart's shuddering cock. Rubbing in long, pulling strokes he waited until Stuart started screaming and shaking with pleasure before he reached for Brian's cock with his right hand. The huge organ felt wonderful in his grasp and Vince couldn't help staring at it as he stroked Brian to climax.
Those deep, breathy moans and a fistful of hot seed were Vince's rewards and he smiled upon receiving them both.
Stuart collapsed onto the cushions and fought to catch his breath while Brian slid off the couch all together and laid flat on his back on the floor. Vince breathed a contended sigh and sat back, stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. Every part of his body was wet with some sort of fluid and he felt drained and hot and wonderful.
Grinning uncontrollably, Vince let his head back on the couch and he closed his eyes.
Brian
Lying on the floor still trying to catch his breath, Brian reached over and got hold of the belt. It laid limp on the rug right where Vince dropped it and it was still warm from his grasp. Brian stroked the thin strap slowly, his fingers testing the flexibility of the leather.
Stuart was reclined on his belly on the couch and he was watching Brian with his dark blue eyes. "You seem to know a thing or two about spanking," he said. "Are you a dark horse, as well? Like my boyfriend?"
Vince sat forward and reached for the jar of Ponds on the coffeetable, smiling down at Brian in the process . . . but he had nothing to say at that time.
"Well . . ." Brian said. "When I was around twenty years old I fucked this guy for a couple weeks who was really into this dominant/submissive stuff. He taught me a lot, actually. And I've had several partners since who were into it. Kept me in practice." He sat up and leaned against the couch cushion, resting his chin on the back of his arm. "But, you . . ." he said, eyeing Vince playfully. "You are a mystery, Mr. Tyler. Where on God's earth did you pick up your extremely impressive skills?"
Vince stroked the instep of Stuart's foot that was resting next to him on couch. When Stuart looked at him, Vince gave him a sweet little smile. "Come lay over my lap?"
Stuart rolled over and crawled across the cushion to stretch out over his lover's thighs. Vince slipped one of the throw pillows under his head and Stuart relaxed, wiggling until he fit easily over Vince's lap.
Reaching into the jar, Vince gathered a large dollop of the white cream onto his fingers then gently spread it on the back of Stuart's right thigh. Brian's eyes were almost on the same level as Vince's hand and he carefully watched every move the handsome Englishman made. Stuart's skin was pink from the spanking and the smooth surface was ribboned in places with dark red welts. Brian pointed to one particularly angry looking stripe just below the curve of Stuart's left cheek. Vince put cream on it and gently rubbed it in.
"So?" Brian said. "There's a question on the table, Vince. Care to answer it?"
Vince smiled almost to himself as he continued to stroke the cream on his lover's skin. For a moment, Brian thought he wouldn't answer at all and then Vince took a deep breath.
"I used to work in a pub in Castlefield . . . when Stuart was at university. One of the barmen there was a shy bloke about my age called Mark. He was a dancer and he was trying to get to New York to audition for a show or something. Anyway, Mark and I became friends. I think I was the only person in the bar that he actually spoke to. He was really quiet. Nice, though. Lovely body, blonde hair and green eyes. He looked very innocent."
"Like you," Brian said.
Vince chuckled. "I reckon. Some people might disagree with you." He gave Stuart's right cheek a soft pinch on a spot that had no welts.
Stuart wiggled on his lap and breathed a little giggle.
"Do you know this story?" Brian asked the brunette.
"Nope," Stuart said. "I'm hearing it for the first time, just like you. I assumed Vince would tell me about this when he was ready."
"It's nothing to do with being ready," Vince said. "You never asked."
"That's SHIT!" Stuart shouted defensively. He raised up on his elbows and stared back at Vince. "I did ask! I've asked several times. You either completely ignored the question or said you'd tell me later. Don't say I never asked you!"
"All right . . ." Vince said soothingly. "I'm sorry. You did ask me, I remember. My mistake."
Stuart sighed irritably and flopped back down.
Brian lifted his eyebrows in surprise at Stuart's sudden vehemence and looked inquiringly at Vince. He just shook his head.
"Never mind," he said. "Touchy subject. Anyway . . . this one night Mark and I were the last to leave the bar and I asked him to come with me to Canal Street for a drink. At first he was really standoffish, like he was afraid I was coming on to him. I wasn't. He was lovely and all, but I didn't fancy him. Never was much for the shy type. I just liked him. After I made that clear, he was all right and we went out."
"Did you tell me about Mark?" Stuart asked, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow under his head.
"No," Vince said simply. "Didn't tell you any of this. You were gone for the whole time . . . this was right before your Christmas break in your second term."
Brian stuck his finger in the jar of cream that was resting on Stuart's back. He looked up at Vince for permission and Vince nodded once. Brian rubbed a large dollop of the cream on the outside of Stuart's right thigh, paying particular attention to one long, mean- looking welt that reached all the way up to his hip. The trajectory of it made him think it must have come from that hard backhand stroke.
Concentrating on caressing his lover's left cheek, Vince continued. "We had a few rounds and he finally started to loosen up a bit. He got quite chatty when he was drunk which was funny to me. This bloke that hardly said anything all day running at the mouth like a teenage girl on the telephone. Anyway, we got talking about all sorts . . . about sex, of course, like you do. We were comparing our experiences and after a while, he asked me if I'd ever been spanked. I said I hadn't yet, but that I was quite interested in the whole thing . . . which was true. I'd bought a few books and some S&M porn and I'd been thinking about it. When I asked if he'd done it, Mark said he was really into it and that he was actually seeing someone who was a sort of master. Apparently this person was teaching him all sorts of amazing things."
"I'm assuming Mark was a sub," Brian said.
"Yeah," Vince replied. "And this man he was seeing was not only a dom, but a . . . sort of instructor."
"He taught people how to do this stuff?" Stuart asked.
Vince nodded.
"Wow," Brian said, suddenly even more intrigued by this story than before. "There's an interesting line of work. Did you go see him?"
Taking another deep breath, Vince nodded toward the bottle of water on the coffee table. Brian handed it to him and he drank a few sips before he went on.
"Mark invited me to go with him that weekend, but I couldn't bring myself to do it yet. I told him I would think on it and go with him another time, if I decided I could handle it. But at first I was too scared. Over the next few weeks, Mark and I became closer friends and he told me more about Eli."
"Eli?" Brian said. "That's the instructor?"
"Yeah. Elijiah Paulson. An American, actually," Vince teased.
"Oh, that's it. Blame everything on the Yanks," Brian said.
"Why not?" Stuart joked. "It's all your fault, anyway. Runnin' off like that."
"Right. Go on, Vince."
"Well, after a few weeks of coaxing, Mark convinced me to go with him to meet Eli. Now, I had no idea what to expect. Mark told me that Eli was ridiculously rich . . . that he had houses all over the world: New York, LA, Barcelona, Paris, Cairo, Rio. His house in England was in Surrey. This big country estate with gates and guards and all. Mark took me out there on a Friday night and we stayed the weekend."
Stuart turned over and sat up in Vince's lap, looking at his lover with his brow tightly knit. "You're making this up," he said, slightly accusing.
"No," Vince said shaking his head. "I . . . know it sounds mad, but . . . "
"It SOUNDS like a cheap novel," Stuart said. "In fact, I think I read this book. You're making this up, Vince."
"I assure you I am not," he said gently, not the least bit insulted. "Do you want me to go on or . . ?"
"I want you to go on," Brian said. He rested his head on his folded arms again and regarded Vince with open curiosity. "I don't care if you are making it up, it's a good story."
Stuart was still frowning incredulously but he didn't offer any further protest at that moment. He sat there on his lover's lap and waited for him to continue.
"The house in Surrey was huge," Vince went on. "He had these two Dobermans called Charlie and Wallace that guarded the property and he had all these servants . . . just house staff, I don't mean SERVANTS." He laughed shyly. "We were greeted at the door by this really good- looking blonde bloke about our age dressed in nothing but a pair of black leather trousers. He wasn't wearing any gear or anything, just the trousers. He took us into this huge living room with a fireplace and all this antique furniture. We were sat there for about fifteen minutes just waiting. I remember seeing photos on the wall above the fireplace . . . photos of groups of people together. Mark told me they were graduates."
"Of Eli's little school of leather?" Brian said.
"That's right. These were people Eli had taught at that house in Surrey. Mark said Eli had a wall of photos like that one in all of his houses."
"Damn," Brian said, shaking his head. "So, this guy is the real thing. He does this for a living?"
"I dunno if he was paid for it or not," Vince said. "I never asked him. He didn't ask for anything from me. While we were there that weekend, I found out that Eli was a retired dancer that was teaching private lessons in ballet back in LA. He taught young people mostly . . . girls and boys from about 6 to 14 years. He had a special group that did recitals a few times a year and he was also a consultant for a Los Angeles based dancetheater group. I can't recall their name but he said they were quite successful. I didn't really find out much more about him as I wasn't allowed to speak most of the time."
"No shit?" Brian said. "Did he beat you? Tie you up?"
"No," Vince said. "None of that. He identified me as a dom almost right away. What he wanted to do with me was teach me how to use the equipment and how to control someone without violence. He said I would be really good at it if I wanted to go all the way."
"Meaning, to become a full time student," Stuart said, his tone considerably less cross that time. He seemed to finally be believing the tale being told.
"Yeah," Vince said. "But, I wasn't ready for that. Didn't know if I ever would be. But it was interesting knowing it was available. Just in case. I liked Eli. We got on well. He's a very . . . intense person. I wouldn't mind knowing him socially, but he said he never really became friendly with students. It complicated matters too much."
"That makes sense," Brian said. "So you stayed the weekend and he let you play with his toys . . . which I'm sure he had EVERYTHING."
"He did," Vince said, nodding. He smiled at the memory. "Even after reading those books I bought and watching the tapes, I still had no idea what half those things were for. The first day, he had me sit in that living room with him for hours . . . just sitting there on my knees on a pillow naked with my head down, not saying anything. He talked all day. He read things to me, explained things about the art of pain, told me things about control and kindness and the psychology of it all."
"You got a crash course," Brian said smiling.
"Yeah, I did. He wanted me to come and do a real training session, but I couldn't. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get so involved in the lifestyle, you know? It's so much ritual and participation. Takes a lot of time and thought. I didn't think I had the heart to be in it that thoroughly. But he said the door was always open if I changed my mind. Who knows? I might still do."
Stuart was staring at him with his dark blue eyes wide. "He never hit you with anything?"
"Only to show me the difference in texture . . . you know, the way Brian pointed out the sound when I took the belt to you from way back?"
"Yeah."
"That's the sort of thing Eli focused on. The way it's mostly about the sound and shock of being hit, rather than about the sensation of the hit itself. He used the toys on the outside of my legs to show me how they felt, but he never actually worked me over. I watched him do Mark, though. It was fascinating. Eli made him come just from slapping his back with a tiny leather strap. It was all about the intensity of it . . . the relentless attention." Vince shook his head. "Really. It was amazing."
"What toys did you use?" Brian asked.
"Uh . . . the cat o' nine tails, a few different paddles . . . wooden and metal . . . a whip, which I didn't care for . . . several belts, all of different width and weight, and a rubber thing . . . sort of like a cat o' nine, but with thin, rubber strings on it. That little bugger really hurt!" He laughed. "I didn't care for it, either. I liked the belts. And the leather cat. It was nice. I liked the cat best, I think."
"And you don't have one?" Brian asked raising his eyebrows.
"Well, Stuart and I only just started . . . exploring this. I haven't bought anything special yet. It's just been that Gucci belt."
"Why did you choose this one?" Brian said, holding up the belt and stroking it with his fingers again. "I'm sure Stuart has hundreds of belts. What's this one got that the others don't?"
"The leather is softer, more flexible," Vince replied. "More like a belt designed specifically for leather play. I went through his whole wardrobe and tested them all. You should have seen me. I liked this one and two others he has, but he happened to be wearing this one on the first day we tried this. So, the Gucci got the job by default."
"The first day you tried this, you were spanking him because of me, right?" Brian said softly.
"Right," Vince said, his chin lowering slightly and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "You are a terrible problem for my Stuart. You get him in trouble constantly."
"I know I do . . ." Brian shook his head in mock resignation. "I'm a hideous influence."
"Hideous," Vince concurred.
"So, it seems to me that you should be spanking ME, not Stuart." Brian raised his eyebrows hopefully. "Since I'm the one causing all the trouble."
For the first time since that conversation started, Stuart grinned. He bit the tip of his tongue and nudged Vince's ribs gently. "Go on, then," he said. "Give him a good thrashing. He deserves it, after all."
Vince put a kiss on Stuart's neck just below his ear, then he looked back at Brian. "Truth is, love, I'm quite tired after all that. And it's late."
"Doesn't have to be tonight," Brian said, secretly very disappointed. "We've got the whole weekend. That is . . . if I'm welcome to stick around in Manchester."
"When's your meeting in London?" Stuart asked.
"Monday morning. I was going to fly out Sunday afternoon."
Stuart turned to his lover again. "He should just stay with us, yeah? Stupid sending him to a hotel. We're just going to keep bringing him here anyway."
Vince looked at Brian for a moment, his expression calm but otherwise unreadable. "Would you like to stay here for the weekend?"
"I would," Brian said. "It's my last chance, after all. You guys'll be married in a month."
"What's that got to do with it?" Stuart said. "We're just as committed now as we will be after we exchange vows. What's the ceremony got to do with anything?"
Vince's fingers slid up into his lover's hair at the back of his neck and pet him there softly. He spoke to Stuart in a gentle, patient tone. "I would rather we didn't see Brian in this manner after this weekend," he said. "I think I've made that clear. We can be friends and all, but I don't want us to play with him anymore. It's too dangerous. Makes me too anxious."
Stuart sighed and pursed his lips. "I'm not getting a vote on that, either, am I?"
Vince smiled and shook his head.
"Right," Stuart said. "So, he should stay this weekend . . . if it's our last chance to enjoy him."
"Yes," Vince agreed. "Should we get you a taxi so you can go get your things from the hotel?"
"It's almost two," Stuart pointed out, turning to Brian. "Just go in the morning."
"Okay," he said. "Whatever."
Stuart shifted and moved off the couch, walking toward the bedroom. "You need a Valium, Brian. You'll never sleep otherwise." He went up to the bathroom and rattled a prescription bottle in the medicine cabinet. While he was away, Brian lowered his voice and spoke to Vince privately.
"Everyone who sees you two together, thinks Stuart's the one in charge," he said.
"Well, he is," Vince whispered. "I mean . . . he's my every thought and desire. I live for him. That makes him in charge, regardless of the sexual dynamic we're playing with right now."
Brian stroked the belt again thoughtfully. "I don't know about that . . . it seems like he's resigned to being the naughty little kid that you have to keep in line. Seems like that's always been the way with you two . . . belts and cold cream aside. He would fuck up and you would disapprove. That was the way it went."
Stuart came back to the lounge and handed Brian a small white pill.
"Thanks," Brian said, dry swallowing the Valium. Vince offered him the water bottle but he shook his head. Brian was used to swallowing drugs with no liquid.
Stuart ran his fingers through Brian's hair and then he turned back to the bedroom. "I'm tired," he said. "I'm going to sleep. Whatever you two were whispering about a second ago, feel free to continue."
Vince chuckled and Brian rolled his eyes.
"Comin' to bed?" Vince asked.
"Yeah, sure." He followed Vince up to the bedroom and all three of them piled into the large bed.
Stuart laid in the middle, spooned back against Vince in their usual sleeping position and Brian curled up in front of him, tucking his head into the curve of Stuart's neck. His arm draped around Stuart's waist and linked softly against Vince's. The warmth of their bodies and the comforter on top of them had Brian relaxing almost immediately. But he didn't sleep for some time.
His mind was full of images from the story Vince had told them. He could clearly picture Elijiah Paulson's house in Surrey, the photos of his students, the roaring fireplace and the big sleek dogs. Brian could almost hear the soft swoosh of the bare feet of the blonde boy who answered the door for Vince and Mark. For some reason the tale had been so vivid to him that the images resounded in his memory as though he'd seen it all first hand.
Brian Kinney's dreams were filled with those graphic thoughts and the intense sounds of soft leather cracking lovingly on tender skin. He slept like a baby.
* * *
Stuart
After Vince left for the market the next morning, Stuart took a long shower. Brian was still sleeping off the Valium in a rumpled pile of blankets and pillows on the bed.
Stuart had a shave and got dressed in his silky pajama bottoms and a dark blue sweater, then he went down to make coffee. He couldn't help wishing Brian would wake up, even though Vince made him promise he would leave their guest alone until he returned from the market.
Feeling more than a little mischievous, Stuart carried two cups of coffee up to the bedroom. He sat carefully on the bed and stretched out his legs, silently watching Brian sleep.
Brian's cheeks and chin were darkened with a slight beard and his light brown hair almost covered his eyes in its disarray. His beautiful lips were parted and he breathed evenly, deeply. Brian's wheat-colored eyelashes looked soft and thick and Stuart wanted to touch them, but he managed to refrain from doing so. Chewing his thumbnail, he kept examining the handsome American's face.
Stuart thought of all the times people had said he looked like an innocent child when he slept. Brian didn't look innocent at all, just a bit vulnerable. Maybe it was the exposed curve of his tender earlobe poking out from under the white sheet. That, Stuart found, he could not resist. He reached out with the tip of his index finger and very lightly touched the satiny shell of flesh, tingling a little as he stroked the tiny hairs there. It was a fierce struggle not to bend down and run his tongue over that lobe.
Just like Stuart knew he would, Brian shifted and woke up. He reached for his ear in the last of his sleep and just missed Stuart's hand as he pulled it away. Brian rolled onto his back and stretched, scrubbing his face with his hands. He sighed and groaned then finally he opened his hazel-green eyes.
Stuart sat there smirking, waiting for Brian to look around the room and remember where he was. The handsome American raised up on his elbows and turned to Stuart, his hair spiked up crazily and pointing in all directions. Reaching over, Stuart smoothed the soft feathers down with his hand.
"'Morning," he said.
"Hey," Brian croaked then he cleared his throat. "Christ, that was a serious Valium. What time is it?"
"Half ten. We didn't go to sleep `til almost 2:00. That's only eight hours."
"Mm." He sat up and yawned, glancing over at the mugs on the night table. He must have smelled the coffee. "One of those for me?"
Stuart handed him a cup. "You take it black, right?"
"Right. Thanks." Brian blew on the steaming liquid and then took a sip. "God, the coffee over here is so much better than at home." He sipped again, then looked over at Stuart who was still sitting there smirking. "But it still sucks that you cheap bastards don't give free refills in restaurants. Did you kiss me just then?"
"No. I just touched your ear." Stuart wiggled the disobedient finger in the air. "I wanted you to wake up. I was bored." He picked up his own cup and sipped from it.
"You get bored very easily. Where's Vince?"
"At the market. Apparently he plans to keep us trapped here for the rest of the weekend without letting us out. He wanted to get supplies."
Brian grinned. "Which reminds me, I have to get my stuff from the hotel. I have something for Vince in my bag."
"Oh, really?" Stuart said. "I think you've given him enough presents."
Brian batted his long eyelashes, flirting. "You'll like this gift, too, honey. It's mostly for you." He leaned over and gave Stuart's lips a little kiss. No tongue, just a soft brush of lips and a little rub of the tips of their noses. Even that small touch made Stuart's cock stir.
"I can't play with you until Vince comes back," he said, stealing a little nibble of Brian's full bottom lip.
"I figured." Brian fluffed up the pillows behind his back and leaned against the headboard with his coffee. "We'll just call that an appetizer then." He sat with his coffee just drinking it and trying to wake up for a few minutes, then he turned to Stuart again. "You really didn't believe Vince last night, did you? When he was telling us about that guy, Eli."
"Not at first," Stuart said, frowning. He looked down into his own cup thoughtfully. "I suppose I just didn't want to believe it. He does make up stories sometimes. Well . . . he used to. When we were kids. No telling if he still does."
"Seems to me that he DOESN'T tell you a lot more things than he makes up to tell you," Brian said. "I mean, I have to say that I'm really surprised you didn't know all that about him. That's some pretty serious shit."
"It was one weekend when he was nineteen, Brian. I was at university. We didn't see each other often during that time. It's really not that strange that he would have omitted something like that." Stuart knew he sounded defensive . . . he FELT defensive . . . but he couldn't stop himself. He wished Brian would drop the subject.
Taking two big gulps of his coffee, Brian leaned over Stuart and set his cup on the night table. "Fine," he said, batting his eyes. "No need to get crabby, honey. Even though you're really fucking sexy when you're mad. Can I take a shower?"
Stuart stuck out his tongue. "Yeah. There's clean towels on the shelf by the toilet."
"Thanks." Brian kissed him again, that time lingering a bit longer but still keeping his tongue to himself. He was being a good boy . . . sort of.
Stuart watched him get off the bed and walk naked into the bathroom. He allowed himself a good long look at Brian's nicely shaped ass and his long, well-defined legs before he disappeared around the corner. Bringing his cup to his lips again, he stayed there on the bed while he finished his coffee, behaving himself and waiting for Vince to come home.
* * *
Vince
Hands full of sacks, Vince had to use his foot to roll back the lift gate. He knocked on the door with his knee and Stuart came to let him in.
"Sorry. Didn't have a free hand." He squeezed through the door and made his way to the kitchen counter just in time. One of the bags slid out from his grasp and landed with a thud on the smooth tile.
"I would have helped you," Stuart said, walking up behind him.
"It's all right. I had it up until the last minute." He turned around and gave his lover a kiss, breathing in deeply, smelling him. Vince ran his tongue across Stuart's lips and tasted Brian there. He looked into those sapphire eyes disapprovingly. "Did you misbehave?"
"Just kisses," Stuart said. "No tongue."
"Hm," Vince smiled. "Well, I never said you couldn't kiss him. You're sure that was all?"
"Yep."
He shook his head. "Too bad," Vince teased. "I was looking forward to having a reason to take you over my knee." He turned to the sacks of groceries and began to unload them. "Where is Brian?"
"He went to the hotel to get his things," Stuart said, walking into the kitchen to help unload the sacks. "He said he got you another present."
"Yeah? Did he tell you what?"
"No. Just that it was something I would like, too." Stuart took out a bag of apples and worked on the little wire twist at the top. "Are you sure you're all right with him staying the weekend?"
Vince nodded. "Yeah. I'm looking forward to it, actually. Last night was nice. Very . . . stimulating." He carried the eggs and butter through the kitchen to the fridge, reaching around to give Stuart's firm backside a good squeeze on the way.
"Pervert," Stuart teased, tossing him a wink.
Vince chuckled. He opened the fridge and moved some take-away packages around to make room for the new groceries. "And what about you?" he said.
"What about me?" Stuart brought him some cheese and a container of yogurt.
"Are you all right with Brian staying?" Vince put the new items into the fridge then leaned on the door looking in his lover's eyes. "You seemed a bit put out last night."
"I wasn't. I was just tired." Stuart lowered his chin and pouted. "I don't think I like it when he kisses you. I mean . . . it's lovely to see because you're both bloody sexy, but . . . it bothers me a bit." He looked down shyly. "I didn't think it would."
Vince knew his lover was playing up this shy angle, but he loved it anyway. Stuart looked so adorable he could hardly stand it. Vince pulled him into a hug, kissing his warm mouth. "You're mad, you are. I dunno what to do with you. First you want to shag him and have him all to yourself, then you want to share him with me, now you don't want me to even kiss him. He can fuck me, but he can't kiss me, is that it?"
"I didn't say he couldn't kiss you," Stuart said. "Just that it bothers me. Makes me jealous. Not the shagging, just the kissing. It's more . . . intimate for some reason."
Vince shook his head and laughed. "Mad. Completely mad." He pressed Stuart against the counter gently, holding his face in his hands. Kissing his lover's lips, Vince made a line of soft pecks down Stuart's throat and over his ears, smiling when he heard Stuart sigh. "You know I'm completely in love with you, right?" he whispered as he gently nipped Stuart's earlobe.
"I don't mean that . . ."
"Look," Vince placed his hands on the counter on either side of Stuart's hips and nudged his thigh up in between the brunette's legs. He could feel the warm weight of Stuart's balls and the tight muscles in his thighs. "I don't want this to be a problem," he said. "This is supposed to be fun."
"It IS fun," Stuart said, his fingers teasing up the inside of Vince's shirt. He tickled the hairs below Vince's navel with his nails.
Smiling sexily, Vince said, "I can't say I mind you being jealous, though. It's quite nice."
Stuart rolled his eyes. "Twat."
Moving in for another kiss, Vince sighed as Stuart lifted his shirt up and stroked Vince's tummy with his hands. He pushed his hips forward to rub his growing erection against the exposed skin. Vince loved the way Stuart's hard cock felt through the silky fabric of his pajamas and he gently chewed his lover's lips to show his appreciation.
"Brian just left about fifteen minutes ago," Stuart whispered. "We have plenty of time for a shag."
Grabbing those lean hips, Vince lifted Stuart up and sat him on the counter. With quick, stroking hands he removed those pajamas and let them drop on the floor, then he leaned over and licked and kissed Stuart's cock until it swelled to its full size. Lifting his lover's lean thighs, Vince hooked his thumbs behind Stuart's knees and pushed them back enough to gain access to his silky pucker.
Stuart moaned and gripped the edge of the counter with his fingers as Vince's tongue lapped and circled his anus. Running his tongue up and down the warm crevice, Vince grazed his teeth along the tender flesh just inside those firm cheeks. He felt Stuart shiver and spread his legs wider, wanton and hungry.
Sucking that delicious cock deep into his throat, Vince worked his own trousers open. He stroked his erection roughly, making himself as hard as possible, then he reached up and pulled Stuart forward.
"Can you reach that sack there?" he said, nodding to the sack of unpacked groceries closest to them on the counter.
"Yeah . . ." Stuart leaned out then tugged the brown paper bag and dragged it over to them.
Vince reached inside and rummaged for a moment, then his fingers found what he was after. He pulled out a new bottle of extra virgin olive oil and unscrewed the top with his teeth. Eyes flashing playfully, he grinned at his lover and said, "mind getting a bit messy?"
Stuart giggled devilishly and bit the tip of his tongue. "Oh my God, Vince . . . you just get worse every day." He leaned forward and kissed Vince wetly, still giggling.
He hooked Stuart's right knee over his shoulder and opened his left thigh as wide as it would go. Then he tilted the bottle just enough to pour about a tablespoon of the slick liquid over Stuart's tense balls. He set the bottle aside and reached down with his fingers, rubbing the fragrant oil into the heated crack of Stuart's ass. His fingers found that hot opening and slipped inside easily sliding on the oil. Stuart wriggled and raised his hips, his breath coming in hitching quickly. His beautiful cock strained against his belly and Vince took a moment to run his oily hand over the shaft once, getting it good and slippery, before he returned to the task of stretching his lover's hole for entry.
They kissed and giggled and panted and then Stuart couldn't wait any longer. He reached down and grabbed Vince's cock, stabbing his tongue between Vince's parted lips. "Fuck me," he gasped. "I can't stand it . . . please."
Vince let his partner guide his cock home, standing rigid while Stuart's fingers urged the swollen shaft into his own body. Once the head made it passed that tight ring of muscle, Stuart let go and propped himself up with his hands behind him on the counter. Vince's shoulder felt the pressure of Stuart's raised knee as he used it for leverage and pushed his hips forward to take all Vince's length.
The olive oil made his grip slippery, but Vince held onto the counter and let Stuart lead. He made a strong rod of his body and held still while his wanton lover began moving forward and backward, his hands and that one raised knee supporting all his weight. Stuart dropped his head back and growled like a wild cat, his entire body thrusting, riding the hard cock inside him.
Vince pressed his thighs against the counter for support then he rubbed Stuart's kicking, leaking cock with his oil slicked right hand. He could feel his own orgasm surging and rushing forward and he tried to will it back, tried to wait for his Stuart to finish. He didn't think it would be long. Stuart's movements became a fast rocking, his hot anus gripping Vince's cock and stroking it mercilessly. The oil held together well and actually heated up a bit from the friction. It added an earthy, tantalizing component to the familiar musk of their combined male scents. Vince could feel his cockhead thumping his lover's prostate every time Stuart rocked forward.
"Oh . . . God . . ." Stuart moaned. "It's hot . . . that feels so good . . ." His body clenched suddenly and his cock exploded under Vince's stroking hand. As he shot semen across his tight belly he never stopped rocking forward and backward, maintaining the rhythm unconsciously until Vince began to come.
Pulling out at the last second, Vince tugged his tingling, pulsating cock with his well-greased hand and added his spunk to the creamy mix on his lover's heaving tummy. Stuart lowered himself down so he was sitting on the counter again, his knee sliding gracefully off Vince's shoulder. Almost instantly he started giggling again.
"Christ," he laughed, looking down at his belly. "That's a serious mess. It looks like . . ." He looked up at Vince with his blue eyes glinting. "You didn't get any salad, did you?"
Vince cracked up, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. They stood there laughing uncontrollably for a moment and then they were suddenly interrupted by the sharp buzz of the front door intercom.
"That couldn't be Brian already, could it?" Vince asked.
"Not unless his hotel is down in our carport."
Reaching for the roll of paper towels, Vince tore off a long string of them and split them between him and Stuart. The buzzer rang again insistently.
"Shit," Vince said, laughing like mad. He frantically tried to clean himself off and do his trousers back up as he stumbled across the room to the white phone on the wall. Glancing back at Stuart, he laughed even harder as he watched his lover slide off the counter and wipe at his slick, sticky belly with the paper towels. He was holding his blue sweater out of the way so he wouldn't get it wet and the sleeves hung low over his hands, making him look even more kittenish. Stuart's cock was still swollen and long and it glistened beautifully as he moved.
"I cannot believe how sexy you are," Vince told him. "I just want to lick you everywhere."
Stuart smirked at him, his dark curls tumbling over his brow. "You'd keep me half naked and covered in spunk all the time if you could," he teased.
Grinning, Vince said, "and you'd love it." He picked up the phone and spoke into it, putting on his most congenial tone. "Hello?"
"Hiya, Vince," Romey's cheerful voice rang out. "Hope we're not early."
"Uh, no," Vince looked at Stuart bewildered, his mind searching frantically through the million details of which he'd been keeping track for the wedding. "Come on up." He hung up the phone and pressed the button that unlocked the door downstairs, then he rushed into the kitchen and whispered to Stuart. "It's Romey," he said. "She's here with someone . . . she said `we'. I can't think why she's here or who she's with . . . HELP ME!"
Stuart frowned a moment, then his eyes widened and he took in a breath. "Shit! She's with Jeni, the caterer. They're here with the cake samples!" He started laughing miserably, his eyes running with tears. "This is too much," he said, grabbing his pajamas and scurrying up to the bedroom. "I'll get cleaned up and be right down."
"Do I look all right?" Vince stood with his arms out so his boyfriend could inspect him.
"Yeah," Stuart said and they could hear the lift gate slide out in the hallway. "You look beautiful, Vince."
They smiled at each other for a suspended moment and then Romey knocked on the door.
Brian
After checking out of his Manchester hotel, Brian got a cab back to 16 Mariner's Court. He called Kate on his cell phone as the taxi rode through the gray Mancunian streets.
"Having fun?" she said with exaggerated bitterness. He could hear the juicer running in the background. It was just after 7:00am that Saturday morning in NYC and he knew she was up to go work out.
"Yeah," he said. "They're being quite hospitable." Brian chuckled to himself. "In fact, I think I'm getting spanked today."
"That's a good thing?" Kate asked dryly. "I thought spankings were bad."
"It's a good thing when Vince does it. He's quite adept. Besides, I brought him a new toy to play with. I'm hoping he'll try it out on me."
Kate sighed. "I can't believe they're letting you stay with them. What about the wedding?"
"What about it?" He rifled in his jacket pocket for his cigarettes and lit one, flipping his big silver Zippo closed against his thigh. Brian loved that sound . . . it was so solid and butch like something in a Bruce Willis movie.
"I don't know," Kate said. "It just seems weird that they're DOING you so close to the ceremony. Seems like acting out."
"Acting out what?"
"Anxiety, I guess," she said. "I don't know. Never mind. Forget I mentioned it."
Brian took a deep hit from his Marlboro and blew the smoke out the window. "You're grumpy," he told her. "You haven't talked to Stuey in a few days, have you?"
"How could I? He's been too busy bonking YOU."
Brian rolled his eyes. "Sorry I'm distracting him from your friendship."
"Whatever. Listen, I have to go to the gym. Call me when you get to London, okay?"
"Okay . . ." he hesitated, not wanting her to hang up in that frame of mind. "You gonna be all right? I can ask him to call you."
"Don't you dare," Kate said. "If he misses me, he can call me of his own volition. Just . . . kiss him for me, okay? A really nice one?"
"You got it, baby. Talk to you tomorrow."
"See ya." She hung up in his hear and he knew she was still upset.
Frowning, he stared out the window at the afternoon sun filtering through the English clouds. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd just heard in his friend's voice, but he had an idea. It was a tone not unfamiliar to Brian.
A few minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of Stuart and Vince's building. Brian paid the driver and shouldered his bag, only half noticing the woman standing by the lobby door rummaging in her oversized purse.
As the cab pulled away, he approached the glass doors of the lobby and he heard the woman cussing under her breath. Sharp English accent with bright bursts of slang like `buggery', `bleedin' keys', `sodding handbag' peppered in with muttered complaints he couldn't make out. She wore a bright pink sweater that came down over her black woolen leggings and her shoulder-length red hair was tied back in a black scarf. The handbag she was cursing was almost big enough to carry a grown sheep and Brian didn't wonder that she couldn't locate her keys in it.
He walked up behind her and cleared his throat. When she turned on him irritably, he flashed his pearly whites.
"Hi," he said. "Can I help you with anything?"
Upon seeing him . . . and hearing him speak . . . her expression changed from irritation to disbelief. The woman sighed and dropped her hands on her hips as she turned to face him, regarding Brian as though they were in the middle of an age-old argument.
"Christ," she said. "What's that Irish bastard gone and done now?"
Blinking, his brow crinkled and he stared at her, trying to figure out if they knew each other. "Excuse me?" he said.
"You're Brian, aren't you?" the woman said as though his name was an accusation in itself.
His mind raced over the possible places he might have met this person, but he was coming up blank. He knew he couldn't place her name, but she clearly knew his. Brian scowled, taking one last hit from his cigarette before he tossed it on the ground and stamped it out.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't recall meeting you."
"That's because you haven't," she said almost cheerfully. "In fact you narrowly escaped meeting me the last time you were here . . . when Stuart ran off with you."
"Ah," Brian said and it all came to him then in a sudden rush of clarity. "You're Vince's mother. Hazel, right?"
"In the flesh," she said and even though her brow was still knit with vexation, she extended her hand.
Brian thought it best to take it and gave her as a warm a smile as he could muster. "Pleasure to meet you," he offered.
"Same to you," she said stiffly. Her hands went back to her hips. "Do the lads know you're coming?"
"Uh, yeah. I've already been here. I just went back to my hotel to get my stuff."
"You're staying here, then?" she said, her crinkled brow intensifying.
"Just for tonight," Brian told her, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu and having no idea why. "I have business in London on Monday so I fly out tomorrow afternoon."
Hazel looked him up and down speculatively. "Coming to the wedding?"
"No," Brian said. "I can't make it. Which is another reason I wanted to drop in and see them while I was here this time." He thought that explanation sounded good and he punctuated it with another pearly white smile. If there was one thing Brian Kinney knew about himself it was that people responded well to his smile.
"Hm," she huffed. "Well, I'm sure you're up to no good, whatever you TELL me." She looked down at her bag again and resumed the search for her keys. "If you're expected, you might as well come up with me. They have the caterer in with the cake samples. Ah, finally!" She yanked out her ring of keys and jingled them triumphantly. "I swear to Christ, I don't know where they get to." Once again she gave Brian a look of hard consideration. "Have you got that Kate woman with you?"
Brian spread his hands and looked around. "Do you see her with me?" he said wryly.
Hazel pursed her lips and her eyes narrowed with admonition. "Watch it, luv. You being a right dish does NOT excuse the cheek."
Brian smiled, that sense of déjà vu increasing.
"I'm only asking because I owe her an apology," Hazel continued crisply. "I thought if she was with you upstairs, I might give it to her now. Instead of bringing it up at the wedding."
"Well, I don't disagree that you owe Kate an apology," Brian said, his tone even, his voice wispy and soft. "But I'm afraid she's back home in New York."
Hazel nodded and filled up her lungs with air. "Fine, then. Let's go up." She turned to the glass door and unlocked it with her keys.
Brian followed her into the building, feeling a little like he'd just come away from a bar fight.
* * *
Vince
Just as Romey and Jeni, the caterer, were leaving, Vince heard the knock on the door and recognized it as Hazel's. With Alfred propped on his hip, he walked over and pushed the heavy door open. He almost fainted from surprise when he saw Brian standing behind his mother in the hallway.
"Oh, hiya," he said to the American. Looking at Hazel, Vince lowered his chin. "Mum, tell me you behaved yourself."
"I am not a child, Vincent," she said, reaching for the baby. She kissed her son's cheek then lifted Alfred into her arms, cooing to him lovingly. Without another word, she passed Vince in the doorway and went into the flat, cheerily greeting Romey and Jeni as they were gathering their things to leave.
Brian walked up and leaned in close. "Should I come back later? Looks like you've got your hands full."
"Don't be daft," Vince said. "They're leaving right now. We just forgot they were coming `round this morning." He gave Brian a flirty little smile. "Reckon we got distracted. Come on in." He stood back and let the tall, handsome lad inside, taking an unconscious breath as he moved passed. Brian's scent was a pleasing combination of soap, leather and cigarette smoke and then there was that other thing . . . a deeper, more primal aroma that made Vince's mouth water.
"Hey," Stuart said, crossing the room to greet Brian. "Did you get everything sorted at your hotel?"
"Yeah," Brian said. "Are you guys sure you don't want me to get lost for a while?"
"Not at all," the Irishman said, taking Brian's bag from him. "You can help us decide on the cake. Vince, will you introduce everyone?" He walked toward the bedroom to put Brian's stuff down.
Vince smiled politely and made the introductions. "Romey, Jeni, this is our friend, Brian. He's popped in for the weekend from the States. He's got business in London this week. Jeni is our caterer. She did the engagement party and she's doing the wedding, as well."
"Oh, hel-LOO," Jeni said, flirting like mad. She extended her hand to Brian, looking him up and down appreciatively. "Blimey, don't they grow them nice in the States. Are you married?"
Brian laughed, shaking her hand. "No, but I like guys. Thank you, though. It's nice to meet you. I actually heard about your pecan tarts from the engagement party. My friend Kate was there and she raved about the food."
"Oh, yeah, Kate," Jeni said. "That lovely girl who looked like Nicole Kidman, right?"
"That's the one."
"Mm. Yeah. She was quite nice," Jeni said but her tone drawled a bit too long and melted the sincerity of her words. "She helped us a lot."
Brian reached across to shake Romey's hand. "Nice to meet you, Romey," he said. "You're Alfred's mother, aren't you?"
"Right," she said, looking at him a bit too closely. Romey's keen eyes sparkled with interest. "And you're Kate's friend, Brian. Nice to put a face to the name. I had a lovely chat with Kate at the engagement party." She offered an overly sweet smile. "Between her and Stuart, I've heard a lot about you."
"I'll bet," Brian said, glancing at Vince for either support or permission to defend himself.
Vince couldn't really tell, so he opted to offer support. He cleared his throat to derail whatever comment Romey was planning next. "Well, now that Brian's here to mediate, I'm sure Stuart and I will have a decision on the cake by this afternoon." He smiled at Jeni. "We really appreciate you bringing those samples by. I'm sure we'll enjoy them all."
"Oh, no bother," the caterer said. "Just let me know by the end of next week which one you fancy. You've got my card, yeah?"
"It's in my planner," Vince assured her.
Hazel walked up to Romey and handed her the baby. "Right, here you are then. He's so lovely, darling. He's a perfect split between the two of you."
"I know," Romey said, shaking her head as she looked at Alfred lovingly. "We got very lucky." She glanced at Brian again and Vince cringed to himself, expecting the inevitable onslaught. "Have you met Stuart's son?"
"Not yet." Brian stepped forward boldly and reached out a finger for the little boy to grab. Alfred looked up at him with open curiosity, his big blue eyes transfixed on Brian's face. His tiny hand found a thick bracelet on Brian's wrist and he touched it repeatedly with great interest. It was a wide leather strip with a line of polished white shells attached to it. Vince had never noticed it before.
"That's quite unusual," he said, reaching over and touching the shiny shells with his finger. He squeezed Alfred's pudgy little hand while he was near it. "What sort of shells are those?"
"Cowry shells," Brian said. "My friend Lindsay gave me that when we were in college. It's supposed to be for . . . luck."
"Oh," Romey said, tilting her pretty head and smirking a bit. "I attended a lecture on ancient African customs a few months ago at the university where I work. I heard that the cowry were usually worn to promote sexual prowess."
Brian rolled with it and smiled at her nicely. "Okay, that too."
"Lindsay," Vince said, once again trying to change the subject. "She's your son's mother, yeah?"
"Right. And a really good friend." Brian looked right into Alfred's eyes and whispered to him. They seemed to be having a quiet, private conversation. Then Brian spoke loud enough for them all to hear while keeping his attention on the baby. "You are going to be so spoiled, little man. Just like your daddy." He winked at Stuart who was leaning against the kitchen counter trying to keep out of the line of fire.
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