A Little Competition

Part 3

The battle between the unstoppable force, and the immovable object raged on inside penthouse four of The Plaza Hotel. Its walls shook from the bodies and furniture being thrown against them, and the sound of breaking glass could be heard down the corridor that lead to the elevators. Frantic calls to the front desk alerted hotel security. Surely there was an assault taking place in the private residence of the hotel's owner, Anthony Massey. Flanked by four armed guards, Tony's head of security, Daniel, lead the charge to the top floor. Locked, and loaded, they positioned themselves outside of their boss' door, and waited for their signal to move.

Daniel wasted no time making his intentions known. "OPEN THE DOOR MR. MASSEY.YOU HAVE THREE SECONDS…ONE…TWO.."

"WAIT DANIEL..!" Tony's voice called out.

"OPEN THE DOOR, SIR!" Daniel turned to his backup. "Break it down," he whispered.

The raid was about to commence when suddenly the door of penthouse four opened. Tony stood up straight, and adjusted the ties on his robe in a futile attempt to give the appearance that nothing had happened. "Yes Daniel?" he said casually.

Daniel wasn't buying the act. His instincts told him that there was someone else inside, maybe even armed, and hiding behind the door. With a wave of his hand, Daniel gave the silent signal. He then proceeded to grab Tony, tackling him down to the floor, and providing himself as a human shield. With their boss now out of harm's way, the rest of the guards stormed inside to find a shirtless stranger, sitting in a large leather chair amidst the rubble.

"GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR, AND KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!" The guards aimed their weapons at Brian.

"Wait…Stop!" Tony struggled to free himself from Daniel's grip.

"Stay down, Mr. Massey!" Daniel held on tighter.

Brian kept his hands in plain sight, and laid belly down on the floor as ordered. From nowhere he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head, then another in his side from an unexpected kick, while two of the guards twisted his wrists behind his back, and cuffed him.

"Daniel, let me up!" Tony continued to struggle.

"Don't worry sir, you're safe!" Daniel assured him.

"Oh, shit!" Brian winced, as the guards continued to assault him.

"GODDAMN YOU, DANIEL, CALL YOUR GUARDS OFF!" Tony demanded.

"Are you sure, sir?" Daniel looked down at his boss.

"Yes, I'm sure!"

"Let him up, guys!" Daniel gave the orders and released his hold on Tony. "Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm fine." Tony hurried over to Brian. "Brian, are you alright? Take those damned cuffs off him!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Massey…we didn't know…We got the call to come up here….From the sound in the hall, sir… It sounded like you were in trouble." Daniel tried to explain, while he fumbled with the cuff keys to free Brian. "Call an ambulance!"

"No, ambulance." Brian finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, Brian." Tony reached out to him.

"I don't need your fucking help!" Brian pushed Tony's hand away. "Just stand the fuck back, so I can get the hell out of here."

Brian pulled himself to his feet, and limped off to the bathroom to examine his swollen face in the mirror. At least the skin wasn't broken. Now if only he could be as certain about his ribs. Brian ran his hand gently across the widening reddened area on his side.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?" Tony appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"I'm sure." Brian said. "Where's your henchmen?"

"They've gone." Tony said. "Here, take this." He handed Brian a towel full of ice cubes.

Brian pressed the cool towel against his cheek. "You've got a little blood on your face," he noted.

"Where?" Tony stepped over to look in the bathroom mirror.

"There." Brian removed the towel from his face, and wiped away a drizzle of dried blood from the corner of Tony's mouth.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Brian placed the ice pack back on his jaw.

"Does it hurt?" Tony asked.

"What do you think?" Brian scowled.

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question." Tony regressed.

"Where do you get your fucking guards? Do you hire them straight from prison, or do you give them refresher courses in brutality first, before you turn them loose on the general public?" Brian winced in pain.

"They thought you were an intruder. They've been trained to react." Tony gently defended his staff.

"You mean overreact don't you?" Brian corrected him.

"You know, Brian, none of this would have happened if you hadn't hit me." Tony reminded him.

"You shouldn't have been talking shit!" Brian snapped.

"This is crazy. I don't want to fight with you anymore, Brian." Tony sighed. "We have to stop this before we kill each other."

"Duh." Brian refolded his towel, and placed it back against his face.

Tony ignored the sarcastic remark. "Justin is yours. I'm backing out of this relationship," he said.

Brian looked up at Tony's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Those were certainly not the words he expected to hear. "Don't you think it's kind of late for that now?" he said.

"No, not really." Tony said. "I've always known my place with Justin. You're the one that he loves. I was just his man-on-the-side, someone he called when his boyfriend was acting like a fool. I know Justin; he'll stay with you if you treat him well. That's all I ask of you, Brian. Take care of him, and treat him well. Don't have him turning tricks in the backroom of Babylon like…"

"Like me?" Brian interrupted.

"I was going to say like a common backroom whore." Tony finished his sentence.

"And by saying that, you mean me." Brian concluded.

"No precious, I didn't mean you." Tony said.

The drained man turned, and headed back through the toppled bedroom, to the equally trashed living room. There Tony maneuvered his way through the broken glass from the designer coffee table, over to the bar. Tony twisted the cap off of a surviving bottle of bourbon and turned it up for a long swig. He was getting too old for this shit. Kenneth was right. Brian and Justin had been nothing but trouble since the day he met them. It was time for Tony to move on and concentrate on rebuilding his faltering empire. He would begin by selling The Plaza. Several potential buyers had been eyeing the prime property for a some time now. Tony decided that he would have Kenneth look into that first thing tomorrow morning.

"No one ever called me precious before." Brian said from the bedroom doorway.

"I can't believe that." Tony took another drink.

Brian maneuvered his way through the broken glass from the designer coffee table, over to the bar where Tony stood. "What I meant to say was that no one has ever called me precious, and made me believe it." He clarified his statement.

Tony didn't respond. Instead, he walked back over to the battleground and proceeded to clean up the area.

"Let me help you with that." Brian attempted to pick up an overturned chair.

"I've got this." Tony stopped him. "You go on and finish dressing. Whatever I can't get done here tonight can be taken care of tomorrow morning," he said.

Brian returned to the bedroom and gathered up the remainder of his scattered belongings. He concluded that Tony was right for giving up Justin. Whatever were they thinking? Everybody knows there can only be two people in a relationship. Brian vowed that he would honor Tony's request. Again, the older man was right. Justin was not meant to be a backroom whore, but then again, neither was he. Funny, Justin had once told Brian that the reason he loved Tony was because Tony had taught him to love himself. How ironic it was that Brian had now learned that same lesson.

Brian finished dressing, and returned to the living room to find Tony still at work. "Hypothetically speaking, if it could have been done, would you have really married Justin and me?" he asked.

Tony stopped rearranging the broken furniture. "I don't know. Would you have wanted me to?" He threw the question back.

"I don't know, but I do know that Gus likes you." Brian said.

"Gus?" Tony looked puzzled.

"He wanted to know if I was going to marry you, or Justin." Brian said.

"And what did you tell him?" Tony asked.

"I tried to give him a decent argument, but in the end my son reminded me that when you love somebody, you're supposed to marry them." Brian said.

"Out of the mouths of babes." Tony forced a smile.

Brian took a deep breath. "Tony, you're not only Justin's man, you're my man too. I can't marry Justin, not without you. You're the deal-breaker daddy. I want us to make a family on our own terms, you and me and Justin, because I love you. I love you both so much, and right now I'm scared shitless, so you'd better say something quick before I loose my nerve, and change my mind!" He exhaled.

Tony sat down in the big leather chair, and placed his elbows on the armrests. He then leaned slightly to his left, and massaged his forehead, the way he always did when he was in deep thought.

"Well?" Brian insisted.

Tony looked up at Brian through the tears that had welled in his eyes. "Let's go tell our boy," he said.

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With the combination of rap music, and too many vodka gimlets, it didn't take much coaxing to get Justin away from "Boy-Toy" and back to Ethan's apartment. "Ah, peace and quiet." Ethan opened the door, and clicked on the light.

Justin was hesitant to go inside. It had been years since his last trick. The stupid hustler Brian had given him for his 18th birthday till remained one of the lowlights in their relationship.

"Are you coming in?" Ethan tossed his keys onto the coffee table, and proceeded to the kitchen area.

"Sure." Justin stepped across the threshold.

"Close the door." Ethan ordered, as he rounded the breakfast counter, and opened the refrigerator for a chilled bottle of water. For a moment Justin almost expected him to pour it over himself like Brian had done that first steamy night they were together……. "Do you want one?"

"What?"

"Water, do you want a water?" Ethan clarified himself.

"Sure, I'll have one." Justin forced a smile.

Ethan tossed a bottle over to Justin, before gulping down his own. "So what do you like to do? Are you a top, or a bottom?" he asked.

The water went down the wrong way when Justin heard Brian's words come out of the stranger's mouth. "I'm sorry," he coughed.

"Are you ok?" Ethan asked.

"I'm fine." Justin assured him, as he attempted to catch his breath. "I'm just a little nervous. It's been a long time since I've been with anyone else," he confessed.

"How long were you and your boyfriend together?" Ethan asked more out of politeness, than interest.

"Five years….Well not really five years, part of that time we had an open relationship, but that was before I met Tony…………."

"Tony, is that your boyfriend's name?" Ethan pretended to care.

"No, actually Brian is my boyfriend. Tony is my man-on-the-side….was…was my man-on-the-side." Justin stammered.

Ethan had already grown bored with the little blonde's small talk about past lovers. It was time to get down to the business at hand. The pride of Boy-Toy strolled over to where Justin was standing, and peeled the young man's sweater off over his head. Ethan's eyes scanned the length of the smooth, alabaster torso, then back up to Justin's face. "Beautiful." he approved. "Relax, princess, it's going to be a long night."

"What did you say?" Justin's eyes widened.

"I said relax." Ethan slid the zipper down on Justin's jeans, and reached inside.

Justin caught the roving hand. "No, that's not what I meant. What did you call me?" he asked.

"I called you princess, because that's what you are." Ethan snaked his arms around Justin's waist, and pulled him in for a kiss.

"I have to go." Justin pulled away.

"Go?" Ethan looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry…..really I am, but I have to get back to my boyfriends." Justin zipped his pants.

"You're sorry? You let me buy you drinks all night, you came all the way back here to my place, you get me all worked up, and now you're sorry? You think you're going to just leave me here like this?" Ethan pointed to the hard-on straining to get out of his pants.

Justin looked down at the tempting bulge. "I'm sorry…I wish I could help you, but I can't…."

"Fucking tease. You go home with a guy, then you don't deliver. Is that what you do at Babylon?" Ethan snapped.

"Pass me my sweater." Justin said.

Ethan picked up Justin's sweater, and held it behind his back. "Come, and take it," he hissed.

"Give me my sweater." Justin reached out his hand.

"You like to play hard to get little boy? Is that your thing, blondie? Maybe you're the kind who likes to be taken. That's it, isn't it? You like it rough, don't you, princess? Let's see how rough you can take it." Ethan blocked the door.

NEXT WEEK: A Little Competition, pt 4

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