This is the second chapter of Families, set in the second year of the "Only Time" series, about one year and 8 months post-513. The first chapter is here.
Beta'd by
testdog65 .
Commas by
vlredreign .
Banner and icon by
roc_abs .
NC-17, no warnings.



Families, Chapter Two
By Xie
“I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.” - Maya Angelou
Brian’s POV
One minute I was pushing my face against his hole, breathing in his smell and tasting his skin, and the next thing I knew, he was there on his knees under my mouth, saying my name in that desperate voice, his cock dripping on the bed.
He’d long ago stopped trying to come, stopped trying to get me to fuck him. He'd been rocking into the mattress, but I didn’t think he even knew he was doing it anymore.
When I pulled my mouth away from his ass, I could feel the muscles in his legs flex as he followed me with his hips. I leaned into the backs of his thighs with my forearms, pressing them apart, moving him up onto his knees.
His ass opened up when he arched his back, and I could see his hole, wet and dark from my tongue and teeth. I leaned down and pressed my thumbs hard on either side of his opening, spreading his cheeks apart almost roughly. I heard him moan again, and dragged my tongue down his crack.
I traced the wrinkles of his asshole with the tip of my tongue, letting one of my fingers slide through the wetness and then swirl on the skin behind his balls. He groaned and spread his legs further apart. I drove my tongue deep inside him, and he moaned and clenched on it, and said, “Brian…”
Justin saying my name that way, like he didn’t even know another word, always made me crazy. I pulled my tongue out, and pushed it in again, and tried to remember why I wasn’t in him up to my balls right now, his cock in my fist, his tight ass clamping down on me while I rammed my dick up him.
He was thrusting into the air, and making small whimpering sounds every time he exhaled. I started stroking the skin behind his balls, pressing rhythmically, trying to ignore how hard my cock had gotten, how it was smacking against my stomach every time I drove against Justin’s ass with my mouth.
I’d meant to fuck him. But at some point when he was under me, floating, writhing into the bed, I’d started to think I wanted to eat his ass all night, to lick hard at the skin around his opening, and then fuck him with my tongue.
Justin’s hand started moving to his crotch again, and I let go of his ass and grabbed it, holding it pinned to the bed. He just said “Brian” again in a strangled voice, and yanked his hand from under mine. He tugged at my wrist, dragging my hand down to his cock.
I let my fingers close over it, but lightly, and didn’t let him tighten them. He tried to get up and I didn’t let him do that either, holding him pinned with my shoulders against his thighs.
He sank back on his calves, then thrust his ass up again when my tongue didn’t follow him. I let my grip tighten a tiny bit, and he gasped and wrapped his fingers around mine, squeezing, begging me, even though he still didn’t say anything except my name.
I gave up. I needed to feel him come even more than I needed to come myself. I swept my thumb across the smooth head of his cock. I smeared his precome around with my finger, working it down under the rim. I went back for more, and he gasped when I pressed into his slit, working the wetness out, dragging it down over his cock. I let my fist tighten and jerked him fast, the big vein full of his blood pulsing against my palm.
I was still holding his ass open with one hand and fucking him with my tongue. He moved his hand off mine and brought it back and pulled his other cheek open. I felt my tongue slip in deeper, and his ass clenched on it at the exact moment his cock went rigid in my fist. He let go of his ass and grabbed my wrist again, stopping me from jerking him off, while wave after wave of hot come beat out of him and ran down my fingers.
Justin’s POV
I fell down onto the bed, Brian’s arm trapped under me. I didn’t care. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say anything.
I felt him pull his hand away, and move behind me. He groaned, and something about the way he sounded sent a jolt of energy through my body. I looked at him over my shoulder.
Brian was kneeling between my legs, jerking hard on his cock. It was the dirtiest, hottest thing I’d ever seen, his cock straining and rigid in his fist, his hand wet and smeared with my come. I didn’t even think, just scrambled onto my knees and twisted around. I wrapped one arm around his neck and held on, pressing into him everywhere I could, feeling us both slick with spit and come.
I put my hand over Brian’s on his cock, feeling him jerking it faster than I could have. The muscles in his fingers flexed against my palm, and everything was wet and hot. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, the dark head of his dick covered with precome, my fingers twisting over his, the muscles in his stomach clenching.
I felt him kissing the side of my face, sloppy and frantic. He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, and I could taste myself on it. I sucked on it, pulling him against me as hard as I could, our hands still grasping his cock, jerking him off.
I heard him groan right into my mouth, and he went rigid against me. He started to come, and it beat out of him, lacing our fingers, hitting my thighs and belly and chest.
Some of his come splashed across my face, hot on my lips, and the taste made me drop down onto him. I sucked and licked at the head of his cock where it thrust out of his fist, letting the last of his orgasm pulse into my mouth. I licked at his fingers, and my own, and cleaned his cock and thighs and stomach with my tongue. At some point I realized he was just lying there, every muscle in his body completely relaxed, one hand in my hair, the other resting on the back of my neck.
I pressed my face into his stomach, and kissed him. I lay there for a while, nuzzling into him, gently kissing the little scar on the edge of his pubes. He just kept stroking my hair. I knew he was smiling without looking.
After a few minutes, I felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I kissed his belly one last time, and dragged myself up to his face. He smiled at me, sleepily, and I kissed his mouth.
When I settled against him, he surprised me by opening his legs and wrapping me up in them, then rolling over on top of me. I let my legs spread so his weight was on the mattress instead of on me, and laughed. “Isn’t this where the whole thing started?”
I felt him smile against the side of my face. “I meant to fuck you, but I guess I got distracted.”
“My ass distracted you from my ass?”
“Mmmm.”
Neither of us said anything for a while, and his hand found its way back to my hair. I was falling asleep when I heard him laugh a little. “At least this is more comfortable than the kitchen table we were on this time last year.”
“We were on? That was my ass getting pounded into the hardwood.” But I kissed him.
Brian’s POV
The next morning, Justin was still sleeping when I got out of the shower. The Kinnetik holiday party was that evening, despite all my efforts to postpone, delay, or cancel it. Cynthia and Ted simply ignored me, as always, even when I pointed out that there was a gaping hole in the side of the building leading into the space being renovated next door. I was convinced no amount of Emmett’s fairy-like ingenuity was going to be able to fix that.
My suit for the party was at the loft, so I pulled on jeans and a sweater, then drove into town to get breakfast at the diner. In honor of the season, I did flip the coffeemaker on for Justin before I left.
The diner’s bitter coffee made me regret having left all the artisanal French roast for Justin. “When did you make this, yesterday?”
Debbie glanced at the pot in her hand. “Fifteen minutes ago. We’ve gone through about forty of these since yesterday.”
I made a face. “Maybe it’s time to wash the pot.”
“Ha ha ha.”
I put my mug down. “Refill it anyway. It tastes like battery acid, but I’m drinking it for medicinal purposes.”
When Debbie brought my breakfast, she sat down across from me in the booth. I raised one eyebrow while I took a bite of my omelet. “Please. Join me.”
She shrugged. “It’s slow today. Everyone’s doing holiday stuff. Why aren’t you getting ready for your party?”
I contemplated the hashed browns I distinctly remembered asking her to hold, but considering she’d actually brought me an egg white omelet for once, I decided to let it go. “Because the small army of people I pay to do that kind of shit for me is handling it.”
She laughed. “Married life really has mellowed you, Brian. I remember the day when you didn’t think anyone could put on a party without your obsessive supervision. Way back, oh… last summer.”
I looked at her over the edge of my coffee cup. “Marriage is a wonderful and life-enhancing institution that everyone should take advantage of.”
Debbie gave me a dark look. “You’ve been talking to my kid. Or Carl.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or both.”
“You should let him make an honest woman of you, Deb.”
“If it wasn’t so fucking freezing outside I’d go and look up and make sure the sun wasn’t rising in the west, because I gotta tell you, I never thought the day would come when Brian Kinney was trying to convince someone to get married.” She flicked her fingernail against my ring. “Of course, since lately pigs have been flying, and according to the wind chill factor hell might actually have frozen over, who the fuck knows what’s going on any more.”
I decided to ignore that. “Now, Debbie. Carl just wants to make sure his woman is taken care of if he goes off to the big donut shop in the sky.”
Debbie stood up abruptly, and sloshed the last of the thick, dark coffee into my cup. “I told Carl and I told Michael, and now I’m telling you: I’m not marrying him until my son and the mothers of my granddaughter can have their marriages legally recognized in this country.” She stood there glaring at me until the cook started banging on his bell and hollering for her to pick up an order.
I diluted the bitter coffee with an equal amount of sugar, and finished my breakfast. She came back a few minutes later, a clean cup and a full pot of coffee in her hand. She filled the cup and gave it to me.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to force me to show up at your house with a joint and some kind of casserole dish?”
Debbie snorted and sat down. She looked around the mostly empty diner and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Brian… I know Carl just wants to make sure I’m provided for. But I’d think you of all people would understand that sometimes we have to give up things that are important to us for a principle that means even more.”
I stirred sugar into my coffee. “I can understand that.”
“Well, then. Tell Michael to stay out of it.”
I laughed. “Like you stay out of his life?”
“I’m his mother. I’m supposed to stick my nose into his personal business.”
I just looked at her. She sighed and got up, slapping my check down on the table.
I left her a twenty dollar tip and went to the office.
When I got to Kinnetik, Ted was standing in the entryway, talking to Emmett. He saw me before I came in, and pushed through the doors, stopping me on the sidewalk with a hand on my chest.
I looked down at his hand, and carefully removed it. “Excuse me, Theodore, but you’ll have to practice your Supremes impersonation some other time. I’m freezing my ass off.”
He shook his head. “Emmett says you can’t come in until tonight.”
I stared at him. “Emmett says? The last time I looked, I own this company and this building. What the fuck does Emmett have to say about it?”
“There’s nothing happening today. It’s Christmas Eve Eve.”
Not even Debbie singing the gay national anthem at the diner had given me a headache, but I felt one start to throb at the base of my neck. “Of course. And that means it’s time for the traditional Christmas Eve Eve firing of the caterer.”
Ted nodded and frowned at the same time. “Emmett said you’d say that, and he said to remind you that, one, he has a contract and two, you had enough trouble getting him to do the party on such short notice. You’ll never get anyone else if you fire him.”
I changed tactics. “Where’s Cynthia?”
“She’s getting her hair done.” He put his arm around my shoulder, ignoring my death glare. “Now, why don’t you go get a facial or a massage, or go find Justin and get him to give you a nice, relaxing blowjob, and let us get everything ready for the party?”
We were standing next to the Corvette. I looked at the car, then at Ted, than down the street to Kinnetik. I wasn’t actually sure how he’d done it, but it appeared Ted had won. It was probably his mention of Justin giving me a blowjob. I’d always been easily distracted by getting my dick sucked.
I frowned. “Justin’s having lunch with his mommy. And Theodore, it’s true Jennifer is the very epitome of the perfect PFLAG mom in her support for her son’s way of life and choice of partner. Still, if you really search your soul, I think you’ll agree that even she’d have to draw the line at interrupting their lunch so Justin can blow me.”
Ted patted my shoulder. “Go buy something, then. Are you done with your Christmas shopping?”
“A month ago.” I’d done all my shopping in New York, when I was there for Justin’s show.
“Well, go buy something for yourself, a nice suit, or some new shoes.” Then he frowned. “But don’t buy any nightclubs. Or real estate.”
“Fine. No transactions that require an attorney to complete.” I got in my car, and Ted headed back to my office. I almost laughed, but got out my cell phone instead.
“Where are you having lunch?”
Justin told me, and I groaned. “God, that place is so…”
“Appropriate for lunch with one’s mother?”
I snorted. “How about one’s mother and one’s partner?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be my first choice of restaurants for that, but don’t let that stop you.”
“I won’t. Ten minutes.”
Justin and Jennifer were deep in conversation when I got there. Justin had his eyes fixed on his hands, which were playing with a sugar packet. Jennifer reached out and put her hand on his. Just as I walked up, she said, “I didn’t mean it that way. But you’re both my children and I love you. I always will. No matter what your asshole father does.”
I dropped down into the empty seat. “Craig’s always struck me as an asshole.”
Justin looked up, and Jennifer turned around, and smiled at me. “The fact that he actually struck you probably contributed to that impression.”
I snorted. “It didn’t do much in my eyes for his campaign for father of the year.”
Jennifer’s voice was dry. “You weren’t his choice for boyfriend of the year, either.”
I picked up my water glass and clinked it against hers. “Touché.”
The waiter came and took our orders. After he’d left, Jennifer gave me a very mother-in-law-ish smile. “I was out at the house the other day, Brian. It looks beautiful, all decorated for the holidays.”
I shrugged. “It was my little attempt to lift the neighborhood above the inflatable Santa level it was at before it was queerified.”
“Or at least,” Justin cut in, “that’s Brian’s version of the story. I suspect he has a secret longing for chestnuts roasting on an open fire and fairy lights.”
Ah, payback for pointing out Craig was an asshole. I debated my response, rejected everything as being inappropriate to say in front of Justin’s mother, and gave him a look promising later retribution.
He smiled angelically and asked us to excuse him while he used the restroom. Actually, he said he had to pee. There are some serious gaps in Justin’s country club manners.
Justin and I had decided Jennifer would take what I wanted to say to her better without him listening, so I grabbed the chance. “If you need any help with Molly’s tuition…”
She cut me off. “Thank you for that, Brian, but no. It’s enough that you helped Justin when he needed it. I’m more than able to pay her tuition without any help from…”
“Her asshole father?”
Jennifer smiled. “Exactly.” She changed the subject. “I’m glad you and Justin will be at Debbie’s on Christmas. I was sorry to miss it with him last year. I invited him to Mexico with Molly and me, but he said he couldn’t get away.” Her smile got softer. “I thought he meant work, but apparently he had something else in mind.”
I wanted to squirm but manfully suppressed it. “He’s full of surprises, that boy.”
She arched one perfect brow. “You didn’t know he was coming?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t say a word.”
She was silent for a minute, sipping her wine. “That seems a little…”
I nodded. “I know. And people say I’m the mean one. If they only knew.” And I gave her my best tragic smile.
“You are.” Justin sat back down. “What lies are you telling my mother?”
“He told me he didn’t know you were coming back last year.”
“I wanted to surprise him.”
“By telling him you weren’t coming?”
I didn’t say anything. Let Justin explain this one.
“I never told him I wasn’t coming. I just didn’t tell him anything at all.” Justin was doing the squirming I’d managed to mostly hide.
“You let him think you were staying in New York…”
“Mother.” Justin had a note in his voice I usually associated with Michael, although modulated somewhat by his WASP upbringing.
Jennifer glanced from Justin, to me, and back again. I began to think being estranged from one’s own mother was not the terrible hardship so many people assumed it to be.
I smiled benignly at them both, and signaled for the check.
Justin’s POV
I walked to the parking garage with my mom and Brian, and then he came with me to where I’d parked. I pulled his coat up around his neck. “Did you ask her?”
He shrugged. “She turned me down. Just like you predicted.”
I stood on my toes and kissed his jaw. “I’m glad you asked, though.”
He bent his knees and kissed me for a while. His voice was husky. “Are you going to the loft?”
I tugged regretfully on his collar. “Alas, I have to go by the comic book store and sign something. I’m probably already late. I’ll see you there later.”
He kissed me again, and when I pulled out of the parking space and glanced in my rear view mirror, he was watching me. I smiled and waved, and he lifted his hand for a second. From Brian, that was a lot. I rolled my eyes and laughed.
Michael was fastening the gate on the front door when I got there. “I’d given up on you. I have to go home and get ready for the party. I was going to leave you a note.” He held up an envelope with my name on it.
“Sorry. I was having lunch with my mother, and the traffic was for shit. Everyone shopping and getting off work early.” I stamped my feet on the frozen ground, and wished I’d remembered my gloves. “Fuck, I can’t believe how cold it is.”
We went back inside and I signed the new distribution contract. I waited while Michael faxed it to the lawyer’s office, and then walked with him to the car, my hands jammed deep in my pockets. “How’s Ben?”
“He’s great. Everything’s still looking good for the new drugs in January. You’ll see him tonight.”
When I got to the loft, Brian was stretched out on the bed, smoking a joint. I lay next to him and we passed it back and forth between us. I finally rolled over, took it away from him, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and kissed him. He smiled at me in a vaguely aroused, vaguely stoned way that made me hard.
I was kissing down his jaw line when he ruined everything. “Ted said you should give me a blowjob before the party.”
I lifted my head. “We’re taking sex tips from Ted now?”
Brian looked stricken. “No. No, we’re not.” He sat up and pushed me back on the pillows. “I know this will be a huge blow to you, so to speak…”
“Christ.” Even stoned, that wasn’t funny. “So, you can blow me. That’ll cancel the curse.”
He looked down at me. “What curse?”
“The Ted sex curse.”
Brian shoved his hand through his hair. “You’re just saying that to get me to blow you.”
I nodded happily.
Brian considered it, then dove down to my crotch and started unzipping my jeans.
I had my hand in Brian’s hair and the other one tucked behind my head. I closed my eyes and just floated on the feeling of his wet mouth locked around my dick, sliding up and down while his hands gently played with my nipples. I was buzzed from the pot and a good holiday feeling, and I thought I could probably just keep feeling this way all night if we didn’t have to go to the party.
Every time I felt myself get close to coming, I forced it away. That method usually only worked for a limited time with Brian, since he could always tell I was doing it and seemed to take pushing me over the edge against my will as a personal challenge. But that night he was taking his time, sucking on me slowly and a little erratically, letting the feeling flood and recede over and over again. I wriggled my toes and buried my fingers in his hair, and just enjoyed it.
I finally felt my balls pull up in a way I didn’t want to stop, and tugged at his hair. He sped up, bringing his hand down onto my cock and wrapping it around the base, jerking and sucking me off at the same time. His tongue was swirling over the head of my dick, and then under the rim, and I let the feeling fill me up, from my toes up to my stomach.
I grabbed his hair in both fists and pulled his mouth down on me hard while I spilled into his throat. It went on for a long time, and when it was over, I just lay there, trying to remember my name and where I was.
When I opened my eyes, he was lying next to me, his head on his hand. He looked smug.
I ran my finger down his cheek. “Wow, we showed Ted.”
He laughed out loud. I was about to suggest a non-Ted inspired reciprocal act when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it, cursed, and answered it. “You’ve already ruined my day and my sex life, so this had better be important.”
I kicked him. He grinned at me, and threw his leg over mine.
Then his smile vanished. “Fuck.” Silence. “Yeah.” He hung up. “Fuck.”
“You said that.”
“I’ll be saying it a number of times in the next hour or so. I have to go to Babylon. Some asshole was swinging on the sprinkler system on the ceiling in the back room and ripped it out. The manager says the fire department is going to shut us down unless we can get it repaired in the next hour, and Ted can’t leave Kinnetik because of the fucking party.”
“Fuck.”
Brian was already in the bathroom, and I heard him starting the water. I was still post-coital and stoned, so I wriggled under the duvet and buried my head in the pillow. I vaguely heard the water go off after a while, then sounds of Brian swearing, and then the blow dryer. I must have fallen asleep, because a few minutes later, I felt the mattress move, and I woke up.
“Don’t sleep through the party.”
I nodded. “Later.”
“Later.”
I heard him slam the loft door, and I sighed and got up. I showered and changed. I was halfway through a bag of stale potato chips when I realized there’d be much better food at the party.
I walked in the front door of Kinnetik under a cloud of lights, and felt the hum of music coming up through the soles of my feet, like Babylon done over in fairy lights and snow.
I found Emmett in the break room, converted for the night into a catering kitchen. “This is incredible, Em.” I kissed him on the cheek, and took something pretty on a little piece of bread. “This is good.” I took two more.
He glowed at me. “Sometimes you give a party, and you just know. You know?”
We walked out to the bar, and he poured me a glass of wine. “Where’s Brian?”
I gestured towards the door. “Some kind of flood at Babylon.”
Emmett looked alarmed, but I just laughed. “Of non-biblical proportions. He just has to make sure the fire department doesn’t shut the club down.”
We watched the bartenders setting up, piling frosted glasses around a jagged mountain of ice. I contemplated it for a minute. “That’s the least tacky ice sculpture I’ve ever seen.”
“Least tacky?”
I laughed. “The only non-tacky.” Two waiters came out from the kitchen, and set up a warming station at the end of the bar, then put a large pot on it. “What’s that for?”
Emmett smiled. “Frozen hot chocolate.”
I remembered going to a restaurant in New York with Kalli last December. She’d sworn their frozen hot chocolate would make me rediscover a belief in a benevolent deity and the fundamental justice of the universe. “I had that once in New York.”
A frazzled looking waiter dragged Emmett back to the kitchen. There were already dozens of people there, mostly Kinnetik employees and their dates, laughing and trying to get the waiters to bring them food from the break room.
I pushed on Brian’s office door, but it was locked, and it looked dark inside.
“I can let you in.” It was Cynthia, her hair swept up, one long curl hanging over her shoulder.
“You look beautiful. Merry Christmas.”
She wished me one, too, then started to pull her keys out of a little shiny bag that didn’t look big enough to hold a cell phone. She unlocked the door. “Just lock it when you leave.” She smiled and went back out to the party.
I went in and turned on the desk light. I’d finished my wine, so I took a bottle from the office bar. I wondered how Brian could work in an office without a window he could look out of.
The music outside got a little louder, and I could hear the rising and falling waves of laughter and conversation. I sat on the sofa watching the play of lights on the office doors, and drank Brian’s scotch.
Brian’s POV
I convinced the fire marshal to show a little Christmas spirit, gave the plumber enough money to buy Santa’s entire workshop, and headed for Kinnetik. The first thing I heard when I walked in was Cynthia’s laugh. She was standing under a drift of tiny lights, a champagne glass in her hand, talking to Richard Bohling.
“So, did you carefully position yourself so the lighting would highlight all the beads in your dress, or was the effect just pure instinct?” I helped myself to a drink from a passing waiter’s tray.
“Fashionably late, as always, Brian?” She raised her eyebrow in a way she’d learned from me.
I gave her a look that said “Don’t ask,” then turned to her companion. “Richard.”
“Brian.” He shook my hand.
“Couldn’t stay away from the vibrant Pittsburgh nightlife and culture? Or is it our phenomenal weather?”
He laughed. “My family’s here. But this weather’s a phenomenon, all right. I was actually hoping it would be a little better here than in New York, but I think it’s colder.” He took a sip from what I could have sworn was an ice cream sundae glass. With a straw in it. And whipped cream.
He noticed my face, and nodded at his drink. “Frozen hot chocolate. Your caterer seems to have been to Serendipity.”
Hot chocolate. At one of my parties. And one of New York’s wealthiest and most successful club and restaurant owners was drinking it. “I need,” I said, “something a little stronger than hot chocolate.”
I started heading for the bar, and stopped when I saw the formerly gaping hole in the side of the lobby, or rather, didn’t see it. Ted materialized at my elbow in a distinctively Ted-like manner. “I know. I didn’t believe it either.”
Emmett floated over to us. “Amazing what a little cheap gauze, some tarps, and a few strings of Christmas lights can do.”
Ted’s voice was firm. “Or $60 a yard silk organza, white velvet theater curtains, and stage lighting from a theatrical supply house in New York.”
Emmett nodded. “Or that.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Just don’t tell me how much it cost.”
Ted clapped my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bri, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I decided it was time to change the subject. “Have you seen Justin?”
Emmett answered. “I saw him before the party started. He was wearing a charcoal sweater over black slacks with a white shirt.”
I cut him off before he told me what color socks Justin had on. “I’m familiar with his wardrobe, and I’m pretty sure I could pick him out of a crowd no matter what he had on. Any idea where he is?”
They both shook their heads, so I got myself a drink that contained not one drop of hot chocolate, and surveyed the room.
I had to admit it didn’t look anything like it had the day before. The contractor hadn’t just ripped a hole in the wall earlier in the week; he’d had to remove some of the partitions that attached to that wall, leaving everything looking a little too post-apocalyptic even for a converted bathhouse. Even with the lights dimmed and the liberal application of gauze, I wouldn’t have expected this. It was like being inside an ice palace.
The music changed, this time to something that might actually have gotten played at Babylon. Early in the evening. On a slow night. I took another sip of my drink, and the conversation level rose over the music. Even the tiny lights seemed to vibrate with the beat.
I saw Lindsay on the far side of the room, standing in front of Justin’s paintings with Richard and Ben. She was nodding at something Richard was saying, and Ben was listening intently. She saw me watching them, and walked over to me.
“Emmett’s outdone himself.” She kissed my cheek.
“It’s all right.” I shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re such a shit.”
“Hey, Debbie says I’ve mellowed.”
She snorted, and took something extremely high in carbs and fat from a waiter.
“Don’t eat too many of those, or you won’t be able to wear that rather lovely sweater.” I brushed my fingers across her arm. “Is that cashmere?”
She nodded, her mouth softening. “It was a Chanukah gift from Mel.”
“Ah, she had Emmett do her holiday shopping this year?”
She smacked my arm. “Shut up. Melanie has exquisite taste.”
I gave her a pained look, but in the spirit of the season, I didn’t argue the point.
I schmoozed my clients, greeted Jennifer Taylor and her date, was kind to my employees, made an intern’s night by remembering her name, and finally got to the other side of the room. And I still hadn’t seen Justin.
I knew Cynthia had locked up my office, but I could see a light over by the desk. On a sudden hunch, I tried the door.
And there was Justin, curled up on the sofa with a bottle of scotch in his hand. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a swallow. “Hey.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He grinned at me. “Waiting for you.”
I bit my lip and laughed at the same time. Then I sat next to him on the sofa and he handed me the bottle. I took a long swallow, set it on the table, and dropped my arm along the back of his shoulder.
He smiled and ran his hand over my thigh. “So, I think we’ve averted Ted’s curse.”
I looked at him sideways. “How’s that?”
“He told you to let me blow you before the party. The party’s going on now, so it’s no longer before the party. Therefore, no more curse.”
I laughed, and pulled him closer, kissing him. His mouth tasted like scotch, and his hand moved up to my belt, starting to unfasten it.
When he closed his fingers around my cock, I groaned into his mouth. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and kept kissing him even while he started to slide down towards my crotch.
“Brian?”
“Fuck. Theodore.”
Justin was laughing into my shoulder.
“Brian, it’s time for the speech. Cynthia said she thought you were in here…”
Justin was still laughing, and whispered, “We’re still cursed.”
I pinched him. “I’ll be right there.”
I waited until Ted left, then touched my forehead to Justin’s. “I’m firing him. Right after Christmas.”
Justin just kissed me. “It’s not like you don’t owe me ten thousand blowjobs already.”
I looked at him. “Why does that number keep getting higher no matter how many times I blow you?”
He flicked his thumb over the head of my dick, and I groaned.
Justin’s POV
We went back out into the sparkling noise, and Brian took two glasses of champagne from the bar and handed me one. I smiled over the edge of my glass, seeing three people, including Richard Bohling and the head of Kinnetik’s art department, standing in front of my paintings.
Brian squeezed the back of my neck. He got up on a little makeshift platform, gave a short and sincere-sounding speech about the season, grinned at everyone in a way that told them he didn’t mean any of it, then raised his glass and knocked it back like it was a tequila shot instead of a goblet full of painfully expensive champagne.
He was surrounded by clients the minute he was done. I went over to where my mom and her date were laughing with Debbie and Carl. While pretending to be enthralled by a discussion of the college and career plans of everyone’s various children, I saw Lindsay. I wandered over to her, slid my arm around her waist, and kissed her cheek. “I love the color of your sweater.”
She laughed. “You, Emmett, and Brian all admired it. I’ll have to tell Mel she hit the gay-men-with-good-taste trifecta.”
Emmett walked up and bent down conspiratorially. “Who’s the tall dark and hot with your mother, and what happened to the hunky boy toy?”
I took a sip of my wine. “Tucker went to California to get his PhD, and the guy she’s with is the head of the commercial real estate division at the agency where she works.”
Emmett looked at my mom’s date for a long minute. “He’s yummy. Your mother has excellent taste in men.”
“With one notable exception,” I commented dryly.
Emmett looked stricken. “Oh, honey! Is your father still financing the anti-gay fundamentalists? He hasn’t had you arrested again, has he?”
Lindsay choked on her wine, but I just laughed. “No. He’s just decided my sister has to go to St. James or he’s not paying her tuition.”
Lindsay and Emmett both stared at me. “I don’t think,” Emmett said slowly, “even my daddy back in Hazelhurst would have done that.”
I shrugged. The shrug having become a fundamental part of my communication repertoire recently.
“What does your sister think about that?” It was Lindsay, concern written all over her face.
“She’s all for it.” I didn’t even bother trying not to sound bitter. “She blames me because our mom won’t let her go there.”
Emmett snorted. “Blames you?”
I suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do about my dad. I figured that out a long time ago.”
Lindsay looked distressed, but dutifully changed the subject. “Your paintings look beautiful where Brian hung them, although I assume this isn’t how they’re normally lit.”
Emmett got dragged off by one of his staffers. Lindsay and I wandered over to where my paintings were hung, and I contemplated the effect of the dim lighting. “I actually like the way it makes the metallic elements more subtle.”
She tilted her head. “It makes the paintings too decorative.”
I glanced at her. “They border on that already.”
“I don’t agree. They play with that. It’s completely different.”
I felt myself smile, but didn’t say anything.
Lindsay looked at me for a minute. “There’s some benefit to having watched your work develop from sketches of Brian to what you’re doing now.”
“I still sketch Brian.” I sipped my wine.
She nodded. “You always will. And I hope you’ll always sketch Gus, and Jenny Rebecca.” She sighed. “It’s part of why you’re an artist, and I manage an art gallery. I could stop. You never could, even when you could barely hold a pencil.”
“This looks serious.” It was Melanie, two glasses of wine in her hands, Ben right behind her. She handed one of them to Lindsay, and then kissed me. “Happy Holidays.”
Lindsay’s voice was full of laughter. “That’s her subtle form of protest against the Christianization of modern society.”
Ben shook his head. “All cultures celebrate some form of winter holiday or festival. Christianity just co-opted the time of year.”
“Christians will tell you modern society is being de-Christianized.” I shrugged. “Just ask my father.”
Mel snorted. “What’s the asshole doing now?”
Lindsay and I looked at each other, and then back at Mel and Ben. “He wants my sister to go to St. James.”
Ben looked disgusted. Melanie choked, and Lindsay thumped her on the back. “You’re kidding.” She looked at my face, then at Lindsay’s. “You’re not kidding.”
“Not kidding.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
I laughed. “More Christianization of modern society?”
She nodded just as Emmett came back. “Fuck, yes. Has your father lost his fucking mind?”
Emmett shook his head. “Based on the one time I met Justin’s father, I’d say that’s a good guess.”
“You didn’t exactly meet my father.” My wine glass was empty, and I set it down.
Emmett nodded agreeably. “True. I watched your father beating up Brian. That doesn’t count as meeting him.”
“I’d have…”
Lindsay cut Melanie off. “So, Justin, when is your next show?”
I grinned at her. “I’m going to have three pieces included in a group show at a gallery in Boston in March.”
Ben beamed at me. “Congratulations, Justin. That’s great.”
Emmett and Melanie were talking to each other quietly and giggling, and Lindsay glared at them. Emmett looked slightly guilty, and gave me his best social butterfly smile. “Where’s Daphne tonight?”
“Florida. She keeps leaving Pittsburgh and going to warm, tropical places for the holidays. Last year she was in Hawaii.”
Emmett shook his head. “I’m always ready to fly somewhere tropical by February, but this time of year I want snow and mittens and holly and Christmas trees.” He sighed dreamily. “And hot cocoa.”
“And shoveling snow and traffic and heating bills that cost more than the mortgage.” It was Melanie, spreading more seasonal cheer.
I went to the bar and got another drink.
Brian’s POV
I was leaning on one of the few remaining walls in my building, watching Michael work his way through the crowd towards me. I had my hand casually wrapped around the neck of a bottle of champagne that I planned on using to lure Justin into my office for the blowjob he kept getting out of giving me.
“Shit, Brian, this is as bad as Babylon.” Michael kissed my cheek.
I put a shocked expression on my face. “I can’t believe you could be so insensitive as to suggest that vast, overwhelming crowds at my club are a bad thing.” I sipped my drink. “How else can I afford all this?” I gestured at the sparkling space in front of us.
Michael looked out at the crowd. “Yeah. Right. It’s Babylon that pays for Kinnetik.”
“Babylon pays its way.”
He looked at me, and smiled. “Even if it didn’t, you’d keep it anyway. I know how you feel about your playground.”
“You know, Mikey, being the CEO of your playground has its drawbacks.”
He looked down at his drink and didn’t say anything, but he smiled in a very irritating way.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Christ.” I shook my head and started to walk away.
Michael grabbed my arm, laughing. “Hey!”
I shook him off, but I stopped. “What is it about me that draws all these irritatingly persistent assholes into my life, who follow me everywhere I go?”
“It’s either your natural charm or you give off some kind of hormone smell. Like a dog.” It was Debbie, her gigantic Christmas tree ball ornaments bobbing against her neck. I fought the impulse to take a long swallow from the bottle I was still clutching in my left hand.
“Debbie. How lovely you look tonight.” I made my voice as genuine as possible. And in fact, she did look nice, glowing and not too colorful. Apparently Emmett had picked out her outfit, if not the earrings.
“Great party, Brian.” It was Carl, solid and ill-shod as always. I shook his hand, murmured all the expected things, and finally escaped everyone. I cornered my prey at the bar, and nuzzled his neck from behind.
“Aren’t you supposed to blow me?”
Justin gave me a look over his shoulder. “Supposed to?”
I nodded. “I had it all planned. I don’t know what keeps going wrong.”
He laughed. “It’s the Ted curse.”
I stood at the bar with him for a while, drinking and watching the room start to empty out. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and almost everyone was going somewhere else – another holiday party, home to wrap presents, some family thing. The music had dropped in volume, and I wondered if Emmett played subliminal messages telling people when it was time to get out.
I felt Justin’s hand start stroking my ass. I checked the bottle of champagne, got one of the bartenders to exchange it for one that was still cold, and pulled Justin by his hand back to my office.
It was still unlocked, but it was empty. I even checked the bathroom. And then I locked the door.
Justin’s POV
Brian and I were sitting on the sofa in his office, passing the champagne bottle back and forth. It had gotten warm and kind of flat, but we were so drunk we didn’t even notice. We were arguing over the terms of Ted’s curse and whether the party was actually over or not and if I should risk trying to blow him.
“Maybe,” I said, turning the bottle over to make sure it was really empty, “we should just go home.”
He looked sadly at the bottle, and pulled out his cell phone. He stared at it for a minute, and then punched in the car service number. He had it on speaker, and I heard them greet him by name.
“I’m at Kinnetik and I’m too drunk to drive home.” He sounded very cheerful for a man making what could have been a humiliating confession.
The dispatcher wasn’t phased. “Five minutes, Mr. Kinney.”
He snapped the phone shut. “They’ll be here in five minutes.” He glanced at me. “That’s not enough time, is it?”
I shook my head. “Not when I’m drunk.”
He stood up, held out his hand, and hauled me up next to him. I grabbed onto him, and we kissed sloppily for a few minutes. We were about to fall back down on the sofa again, when he shook his head. “Wait, the car’ll be here in a minute. We have to go out there.”
He steered me through the door. There wasn’t anyone left but the crew and Emmett, who was sitting on the counter talking to Ted and Blake.
I went up on my toes behind Brian, resting my hands on his shoulders. I put my mouth right at his ear. “Don’t let him curse us again.”
Brian snorted and then laughed, then snorted again.
The three of them turned around and saw us. Ted opened his mouth, but Brian held up a hand. “Nothing, Theodore. If you value your year-end bonus, don’t speak.”
The car pulled up just then, and the driver called Brian on his cell phone while we were pulling on our coats. I ran for the car and slid into the back, but even just the short time I was outside sucked all the heat out of my body. The cold air burned my lungs.
Brian slid in next to me, and slammed the door. I could feel the car’s heat then, and I felt even warmer when Brian put his arm around me. I kissed him most of the way home, just breaking away when we turned down our street. I liked to see the Christmas lights through the trees.
I left Brian giving the driver an obscenely large tip, and fumbled with my key at the front door. I couldn’t get it open, and I looked at Brian and frowned. “I’m not that drunk. My hands are just frozen.”
He took my key and tried it, and we finally got the door open. The blast of warmth from the house hit us. It was early, not even midnight yet.
Brian kissed me in the hall, and then he stopped me when I was going up the stairs in front of him, and kissed me again. He was standing on the step below me, so we were the same height. I nuzzled his hair, and he wrapped his arms around me and just held me for a long time.
I looked at his face, and smiled. “Come on.”
We went into the bedroom, and I kicked off my shoes. I knelt on the bed, sitting on my heels, while he got undressed. He knelt next to me when he was done, and pulled my sweater off over my head. He didn’t kiss me, just looked at me while he unbuttoned my shirt and unfastened my pants.
Then he smiled, and glanced at the clock next to the bed. “It’s midnight.”
I shook my head, confused. “What?”
He kissed me softly. “The curse. It must have lifted at midnight.”
I grinned at him, and closed my hand on his cock, making him give a sharp moan. “Lie down.”
He did, pulling me down next to him. I shoved my shirt off, then wriggled out of my pants and pushed them both onto the floor with my feet. I leaned on my elbow, stroking Brian’s cock with my other hand, and looking at his face. He had a really small, soft smile on his lips, and he’d wrapped his fingers lightly around my wrist on the arm I was leaning on.
I bent over his cock and swiped my tongue over the head, tasting his come and his skin. He moved, lifting his hips the tiniest bit towards my mouth, spreading his legs a little further apart. I murmured against his cock, kissing up and down its length, my free hand stroking gently at the insides of his thighs.
I could make Brian come in a minute, and I could hold him off for hours. I didn’t feel like playing any kind of game that night, though. I just wanted to keep him in my mouth, to breathe in his smell and taste him on my tongue. I wanted to feel him arching under me, and his hands gripping my hair.
He’d bent his knees, and I wrapped my left arm around one of his thighs, playing with my finger on his perineum. He reached down and moved my hand a little, and I cradled his balls in my palm, pressing them just slightly up towards his body, making him shudder and arch towards me even more.
I pulled my mouth away from his cock, replacing it with my hand, and buried my face in his balls, licking and sucking on them both. I flattened my tongue on his fake one, and gently pulled it into my mouth. When I moved to the other one, he gasped.
I lifted my head and looked at his face. His eyes were open, and he was watching me, his lips parted, breathing shallowly and fast. I smiled, and dragged my tongue from the base of his cock to the rim, right over the big vein. When he started thrusting into my mouth, his fingers so tight in my hair it hurt, I opened my throat and swallowed around him.
Brian gave another one of those hard moans, and I started moving my lips faster, sealing them in a tighter ring around his cock. I buried my nose in his pubes then pulled back, and then dove down again, taking him deeper every time. I had one hand wrapped around his thigh and the other resting on his stomach, and I could feel his muscles quivering.
When he came he almost shouted, but he bit it back, his head pressing into the pillow and his feet into the mattress. I could barely taste it before it went down my throat, but I pulled back at the end and caught the last drop on my tongue. I brought it up to him, and he licked it off my lips, his arms pulling me down on top of him, his hands smoothing the hair he’d been pulling so hard a minute before.
A little while later, he’d stopped stroking my hair, and his breathing was slow enough that I thought he was asleep. My eyes were closed and I was slipping over the edge of warm darkness when I heard him whisper, “I’m glad you came back.”
I didn’t wake all the way up. I thought maybe I was dreaming it. But I moved my face down so my cheek was on his heart, and curled my fingers around his hand.
Continued here...
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NC-17, no warnings.
Families, Chapter Two
By Xie
“I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.” - Maya Angelou
Brian’s POV
One minute I was pushing my face against his hole, breathing in his smell and tasting his skin, and the next thing I knew, he was there on his knees under my mouth, saying my name in that desperate voice, his cock dripping on the bed.
He’d long ago stopped trying to come, stopped trying to get me to fuck him. He'd been rocking into the mattress, but I didn’t think he even knew he was doing it anymore.
When I pulled my mouth away from his ass, I could feel the muscles in his legs flex as he followed me with his hips. I leaned into the backs of his thighs with my forearms, pressing them apart, moving him up onto his knees.
His ass opened up when he arched his back, and I could see his hole, wet and dark from my tongue and teeth. I leaned down and pressed my thumbs hard on either side of his opening, spreading his cheeks apart almost roughly. I heard him moan again, and dragged my tongue down his crack.
I traced the wrinkles of his asshole with the tip of my tongue, letting one of my fingers slide through the wetness and then swirl on the skin behind his balls. He groaned and spread his legs further apart. I drove my tongue deep inside him, and he moaned and clenched on it, and said, “Brian…”
Justin saying my name that way, like he didn’t even know another word, always made me crazy. I pulled my tongue out, and pushed it in again, and tried to remember why I wasn’t in him up to my balls right now, his cock in my fist, his tight ass clamping down on me while I rammed my dick up him.
He was thrusting into the air, and making small whimpering sounds every time he exhaled. I started stroking the skin behind his balls, pressing rhythmically, trying to ignore how hard my cock had gotten, how it was smacking against my stomach every time I drove against Justin’s ass with my mouth.
I’d meant to fuck him. But at some point when he was under me, floating, writhing into the bed, I’d started to think I wanted to eat his ass all night, to lick hard at the skin around his opening, and then fuck him with my tongue.
Justin’s hand started moving to his crotch again, and I let go of his ass and grabbed it, holding it pinned to the bed. He just said “Brian” again in a strangled voice, and yanked his hand from under mine. He tugged at my wrist, dragging my hand down to his cock.
I let my fingers close over it, but lightly, and didn’t let him tighten them. He tried to get up and I didn’t let him do that either, holding him pinned with my shoulders against his thighs.
He sank back on his calves, then thrust his ass up again when my tongue didn’t follow him. I let my grip tighten a tiny bit, and he gasped and wrapped his fingers around mine, squeezing, begging me, even though he still didn’t say anything except my name.
I gave up. I needed to feel him come even more than I needed to come myself. I swept my thumb across the smooth head of his cock. I smeared his precome around with my finger, working it down under the rim. I went back for more, and he gasped when I pressed into his slit, working the wetness out, dragging it down over his cock. I let my fist tighten and jerked him fast, the big vein full of his blood pulsing against my palm.
I was still holding his ass open with one hand and fucking him with my tongue. He moved his hand off mine and brought it back and pulled his other cheek open. I felt my tongue slip in deeper, and his ass clenched on it at the exact moment his cock went rigid in my fist. He let go of his ass and grabbed my wrist again, stopping me from jerking him off, while wave after wave of hot come beat out of him and ran down my fingers.
Justin’s POV
I fell down onto the bed, Brian’s arm trapped under me. I didn’t care. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say anything.
I felt him pull his hand away, and move behind me. He groaned, and something about the way he sounded sent a jolt of energy through my body. I looked at him over my shoulder.
Brian was kneeling between my legs, jerking hard on his cock. It was the dirtiest, hottest thing I’d ever seen, his cock straining and rigid in his fist, his hand wet and smeared with my come. I didn’t even think, just scrambled onto my knees and twisted around. I wrapped one arm around his neck and held on, pressing into him everywhere I could, feeling us both slick with spit and come.
I put my hand over Brian’s on his cock, feeling him jerking it faster than I could have. The muscles in his fingers flexed against my palm, and everything was wet and hot. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, the dark head of his dick covered with precome, my fingers twisting over his, the muscles in his stomach clenching.
I felt him kissing the side of my face, sloppy and frantic. He grabbed my chin and made me look at him. He shoved his tongue into my mouth, and I could taste myself on it. I sucked on it, pulling him against me as hard as I could, our hands still grasping his cock, jerking him off.
I heard him groan right into my mouth, and he went rigid against me. He started to come, and it beat out of him, lacing our fingers, hitting my thighs and belly and chest.
Some of his come splashed across my face, hot on my lips, and the taste made me drop down onto him. I sucked and licked at the head of his cock where it thrust out of his fist, letting the last of his orgasm pulse into my mouth. I licked at his fingers, and my own, and cleaned his cock and thighs and stomach with my tongue. At some point I realized he was just lying there, every muscle in his body completely relaxed, one hand in my hair, the other resting on the back of my neck.
I pressed my face into his stomach, and kissed him. I lay there for a while, nuzzling into him, gently kissing the little scar on the edge of his pubes. He just kept stroking my hair. I knew he was smiling without looking.
After a few minutes, I felt him take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I kissed his belly one last time, and dragged myself up to his face. He smiled at me, sleepily, and I kissed his mouth.
When I settled against him, he surprised me by opening his legs and wrapping me up in them, then rolling over on top of me. I let my legs spread so his weight was on the mattress instead of on me, and laughed. “Isn’t this where the whole thing started?”
I felt him smile against the side of my face. “I meant to fuck you, but I guess I got distracted.”
“My ass distracted you from my ass?”
“Mmmm.”
Neither of us said anything for a while, and his hand found its way back to my hair. I was falling asleep when I heard him laugh a little. “At least this is more comfortable than the kitchen table we were on this time last year.”
“We were on? That was my ass getting pounded into the hardwood.” But I kissed him.
Brian’s POV
The next morning, Justin was still sleeping when I got out of the shower. The Kinnetik holiday party was that evening, despite all my efforts to postpone, delay, or cancel it. Cynthia and Ted simply ignored me, as always, even when I pointed out that there was a gaping hole in the side of the building leading into the space being renovated next door. I was convinced no amount of Emmett’s fairy-like ingenuity was going to be able to fix that.
My suit for the party was at the loft, so I pulled on jeans and a sweater, then drove into town to get breakfast at the diner. In honor of the season, I did flip the coffeemaker on for Justin before I left.
The diner’s bitter coffee made me regret having left all the artisanal French roast for Justin. “When did you make this, yesterday?”
Debbie glanced at the pot in her hand. “Fifteen minutes ago. We’ve gone through about forty of these since yesterday.”
I made a face. “Maybe it’s time to wash the pot.”
“Ha ha ha.”
I put my mug down. “Refill it anyway. It tastes like battery acid, but I’m drinking it for medicinal purposes.”
When Debbie brought my breakfast, she sat down across from me in the booth. I raised one eyebrow while I took a bite of my omelet. “Please. Join me.”
She shrugged. “It’s slow today. Everyone’s doing holiday stuff. Why aren’t you getting ready for your party?”
I contemplated the hashed browns I distinctly remembered asking her to hold, but considering she’d actually brought me an egg white omelet for once, I decided to let it go. “Because the small army of people I pay to do that kind of shit for me is handling it.”
She laughed. “Married life really has mellowed you, Brian. I remember the day when you didn’t think anyone could put on a party without your obsessive supervision. Way back, oh… last summer.”
I looked at her over the edge of my coffee cup. “Marriage is a wonderful and life-enhancing institution that everyone should take advantage of.”
Debbie gave me a dark look. “You’ve been talking to my kid. Or Carl.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or both.”
“You should let him make an honest woman of you, Deb.”
“If it wasn’t so fucking freezing outside I’d go and look up and make sure the sun wasn’t rising in the west, because I gotta tell you, I never thought the day would come when Brian Kinney was trying to convince someone to get married.” She flicked her fingernail against my ring. “Of course, since lately pigs have been flying, and according to the wind chill factor hell might actually have frozen over, who the fuck knows what’s going on any more.”
I decided to ignore that. “Now, Debbie. Carl just wants to make sure his woman is taken care of if he goes off to the big donut shop in the sky.”
Debbie stood up abruptly, and sloshed the last of the thick, dark coffee into my cup. “I told Carl and I told Michael, and now I’m telling you: I’m not marrying him until my son and the mothers of my granddaughter can have their marriages legally recognized in this country.” She stood there glaring at me until the cook started banging on his bell and hollering for her to pick up an order.
I diluted the bitter coffee with an equal amount of sugar, and finished my breakfast. She came back a few minutes later, a clean cup and a full pot of coffee in her hand. She filled the cup and gave it to me.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to force me to show up at your house with a joint and some kind of casserole dish?”
Debbie snorted and sat down. She looked around the mostly empty diner and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “Brian… I know Carl just wants to make sure I’m provided for. But I’d think you of all people would understand that sometimes we have to give up things that are important to us for a principle that means even more.”
I stirred sugar into my coffee. “I can understand that.”
“Well, then. Tell Michael to stay out of it.”
I laughed. “Like you stay out of his life?”
“I’m his mother. I’m supposed to stick my nose into his personal business.”
I just looked at her. She sighed and got up, slapping my check down on the table.
I left her a twenty dollar tip and went to the office.
When I got to Kinnetik, Ted was standing in the entryway, talking to Emmett. He saw me before I came in, and pushed through the doors, stopping me on the sidewalk with a hand on my chest.
I looked down at his hand, and carefully removed it. “Excuse me, Theodore, but you’ll have to practice your Supremes impersonation some other time. I’m freezing my ass off.”
He shook his head. “Emmett says you can’t come in until tonight.”
I stared at him. “Emmett says? The last time I looked, I own this company and this building. What the fuck does Emmett have to say about it?”
“There’s nothing happening today. It’s Christmas Eve Eve.”
Not even Debbie singing the gay national anthem at the diner had given me a headache, but I felt one start to throb at the base of my neck. “Of course. And that means it’s time for the traditional Christmas Eve Eve firing of the caterer.”
Ted nodded and frowned at the same time. “Emmett said you’d say that, and he said to remind you that, one, he has a contract and two, you had enough trouble getting him to do the party on such short notice. You’ll never get anyone else if you fire him.”
I changed tactics. “Where’s Cynthia?”
“She’s getting her hair done.” He put his arm around my shoulder, ignoring my death glare. “Now, why don’t you go get a facial or a massage, or go find Justin and get him to give you a nice, relaxing blowjob, and let us get everything ready for the party?”
We were standing next to the Corvette. I looked at the car, then at Ted, than down the street to Kinnetik. I wasn’t actually sure how he’d done it, but it appeared Ted had won. It was probably his mention of Justin giving me a blowjob. I’d always been easily distracted by getting my dick sucked.
I frowned. “Justin’s having lunch with his mommy. And Theodore, it’s true Jennifer is the very epitome of the perfect PFLAG mom in her support for her son’s way of life and choice of partner. Still, if you really search your soul, I think you’ll agree that even she’d have to draw the line at interrupting their lunch so Justin can blow me.”
Ted patted my shoulder. “Go buy something, then. Are you done with your Christmas shopping?”
“A month ago.” I’d done all my shopping in New York, when I was there for Justin’s show.
“Well, go buy something for yourself, a nice suit, or some new shoes.” Then he frowned. “But don’t buy any nightclubs. Or real estate.”
“Fine. No transactions that require an attorney to complete.” I got in my car, and Ted headed back to my office. I almost laughed, but got out my cell phone instead.
“Where are you having lunch?”
Justin told me, and I groaned. “God, that place is so…”
“Appropriate for lunch with one’s mother?”
I snorted. “How about one’s mother and one’s partner?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be my first choice of restaurants for that, but don’t let that stop you.”
“I won’t. Ten minutes.”
Justin and Jennifer were deep in conversation when I got there. Justin had his eyes fixed on his hands, which were playing with a sugar packet. Jennifer reached out and put her hand on his. Just as I walked up, she said, “I didn’t mean it that way. But you’re both my children and I love you. I always will. No matter what your asshole father does.”
I dropped down into the empty seat. “Craig’s always struck me as an asshole.”
Justin looked up, and Jennifer turned around, and smiled at me. “The fact that he actually struck you probably contributed to that impression.”
I snorted. “It didn’t do much in my eyes for his campaign for father of the year.”
Jennifer’s voice was dry. “You weren’t his choice for boyfriend of the year, either.”
I picked up my water glass and clinked it against hers. “Touché.”
The waiter came and took our orders. After he’d left, Jennifer gave me a very mother-in-law-ish smile. “I was out at the house the other day, Brian. It looks beautiful, all decorated for the holidays.”
I shrugged. “It was my little attempt to lift the neighborhood above the inflatable Santa level it was at before it was queerified.”
“Or at least,” Justin cut in, “that’s Brian’s version of the story. I suspect he has a secret longing for chestnuts roasting on an open fire and fairy lights.”
Ah, payback for pointing out Craig was an asshole. I debated my response, rejected everything as being inappropriate to say in front of Justin’s mother, and gave him a look promising later retribution.
He smiled angelically and asked us to excuse him while he used the restroom. Actually, he said he had to pee. There are some serious gaps in Justin’s country club manners.
Justin and I had decided Jennifer would take what I wanted to say to her better without him listening, so I grabbed the chance. “If you need any help with Molly’s tuition…”
She cut me off. “Thank you for that, Brian, but no. It’s enough that you helped Justin when he needed it. I’m more than able to pay her tuition without any help from…”
“Her asshole father?”
Jennifer smiled. “Exactly.” She changed the subject. “I’m glad you and Justin will be at Debbie’s on Christmas. I was sorry to miss it with him last year. I invited him to Mexico with Molly and me, but he said he couldn’t get away.” Her smile got softer. “I thought he meant work, but apparently he had something else in mind.”
I wanted to squirm but manfully suppressed it. “He’s full of surprises, that boy.”
She arched one perfect brow. “You didn’t know he was coming?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t say a word.”
She was silent for a minute, sipping her wine. “That seems a little…”
I nodded. “I know. And people say I’m the mean one. If they only knew.” And I gave her my best tragic smile.
“You are.” Justin sat back down. “What lies are you telling my mother?”
“He told me he didn’t know you were coming back last year.”
“I wanted to surprise him.”
“By telling him you weren’t coming?”
I didn’t say anything. Let Justin explain this one.
“I never told him I wasn’t coming. I just didn’t tell him anything at all.” Justin was doing the squirming I’d managed to mostly hide.
“You let him think you were staying in New York…”
“Mother.” Justin had a note in his voice I usually associated with Michael, although modulated somewhat by his WASP upbringing.
Jennifer glanced from Justin, to me, and back again. I began to think being estranged from one’s own mother was not the terrible hardship so many people assumed it to be.
I smiled benignly at them both, and signaled for the check.
Justin’s POV
I walked to the parking garage with my mom and Brian, and then he came with me to where I’d parked. I pulled his coat up around his neck. “Did you ask her?”
He shrugged. “She turned me down. Just like you predicted.”
I stood on my toes and kissed his jaw. “I’m glad you asked, though.”
He bent his knees and kissed me for a while. His voice was husky. “Are you going to the loft?”
I tugged regretfully on his collar. “Alas, I have to go by the comic book store and sign something. I’m probably already late. I’ll see you there later.”
He kissed me again, and when I pulled out of the parking space and glanced in my rear view mirror, he was watching me. I smiled and waved, and he lifted his hand for a second. From Brian, that was a lot. I rolled my eyes and laughed.
Michael was fastening the gate on the front door when I got there. “I’d given up on you. I have to go home and get ready for the party. I was going to leave you a note.” He held up an envelope with my name on it.
“Sorry. I was having lunch with my mother, and the traffic was for shit. Everyone shopping and getting off work early.” I stamped my feet on the frozen ground, and wished I’d remembered my gloves. “Fuck, I can’t believe how cold it is.”
We went back inside and I signed the new distribution contract. I waited while Michael faxed it to the lawyer’s office, and then walked with him to the car, my hands jammed deep in my pockets. “How’s Ben?”
“He’s great. Everything’s still looking good for the new drugs in January. You’ll see him tonight.”
When I got to the loft, Brian was stretched out on the bed, smoking a joint. I lay next to him and we passed it back and forth between us. I finally rolled over, took it away from him, stubbed it out in the ashtray, and kissed him. He smiled at me in a vaguely aroused, vaguely stoned way that made me hard.
I was kissing down his jaw line when he ruined everything. “Ted said you should give me a blowjob before the party.”
I lifted my head. “We’re taking sex tips from Ted now?”
Brian looked stricken. “No. No, we’re not.” He sat up and pushed me back on the pillows. “I know this will be a huge blow to you, so to speak…”
“Christ.” Even stoned, that wasn’t funny. “So, you can blow me. That’ll cancel the curse.”
He looked down at me. “What curse?”
“The Ted sex curse.”
Brian shoved his hand through his hair. “You’re just saying that to get me to blow you.”
I nodded happily.
Brian considered it, then dove down to my crotch and started unzipping my jeans.
I had my hand in Brian’s hair and the other one tucked behind my head. I closed my eyes and just floated on the feeling of his wet mouth locked around my dick, sliding up and down while his hands gently played with my nipples. I was buzzed from the pot and a good holiday feeling, and I thought I could probably just keep feeling this way all night if we didn’t have to go to the party.
Every time I felt myself get close to coming, I forced it away. That method usually only worked for a limited time with Brian, since he could always tell I was doing it and seemed to take pushing me over the edge against my will as a personal challenge. But that night he was taking his time, sucking on me slowly and a little erratically, letting the feeling flood and recede over and over again. I wriggled my toes and buried my fingers in his hair, and just enjoyed it.
I finally felt my balls pull up in a way I didn’t want to stop, and tugged at his hair. He sped up, bringing his hand down onto my cock and wrapping it around the base, jerking and sucking me off at the same time. His tongue was swirling over the head of my dick, and then under the rim, and I let the feeling fill me up, from my toes up to my stomach.
I grabbed his hair in both fists and pulled his mouth down on me hard while I spilled into his throat. It went on for a long time, and when it was over, I just lay there, trying to remember my name and where I was.
When I opened my eyes, he was lying next to me, his head on his hand. He looked smug.
I ran my finger down his cheek. “Wow, we showed Ted.”
He laughed out loud. I was about to suggest a non-Ted inspired reciprocal act when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it, cursed, and answered it. “You’ve already ruined my day and my sex life, so this had better be important.”
I kicked him. He grinned at me, and threw his leg over mine.
Then his smile vanished. “Fuck.” Silence. “Yeah.” He hung up. “Fuck.”
“You said that.”
“I’ll be saying it a number of times in the next hour or so. I have to go to Babylon. Some asshole was swinging on the sprinkler system on the ceiling in the back room and ripped it out. The manager says the fire department is going to shut us down unless we can get it repaired in the next hour, and Ted can’t leave Kinnetik because of the fucking party.”
“Fuck.”
Brian was already in the bathroom, and I heard him starting the water. I was still post-coital and stoned, so I wriggled under the duvet and buried my head in the pillow. I vaguely heard the water go off after a while, then sounds of Brian swearing, and then the blow dryer. I must have fallen asleep, because a few minutes later, I felt the mattress move, and I woke up.
“Don’t sleep through the party.”
I nodded. “Later.”
“Later.”
I heard him slam the loft door, and I sighed and got up. I showered and changed. I was halfway through a bag of stale potato chips when I realized there’d be much better food at the party.
I walked in the front door of Kinnetik under a cloud of lights, and felt the hum of music coming up through the soles of my feet, like Babylon done over in fairy lights and snow.
I found Emmett in the break room, converted for the night into a catering kitchen. “This is incredible, Em.” I kissed him on the cheek, and took something pretty on a little piece of bread. “This is good.” I took two more.
He glowed at me. “Sometimes you give a party, and you just know. You know?”
We walked out to the bar, and he poured me a glass of wine. “Where’s Brian?”
I gestured towards the door. “Some kind of flood at Babylon.”
Emmett looked alarmed, but I just laughed. “Of non-biblical proportions. He just has to make sure the fire department doesn’t shut the club down.”
We watched the bartenders setting up, piling frosted glasses around a jagged mountain of ice. I contemplated it for a minute. “That’s the least tacky ice sculpture I’ve ever seen.”
“Least tacky?”
I laughed. “The only non-tacky.” Two waiters came out from the kitchen, and set up a warming station at the end of the bar, then put a large pot on it. “What’s that for?”
Emmett smiled. “Frozen hot chocolate.”
I remembered going to a restaurant in New York with Kalli last December. She’d sworn their frozen hot chocolate would make me rediscover a belief in a benevolent deity and the fundamental justice of the universe. “I had that once in New York.”
A frazzled looking waiter dragged Emmett back to the kitchen. There were already dozens of people there, mostly Kinnetik employees and their dates, laughing and trying to get the waiters to bring them food from the break room.
I pushed on Brian’s office door, but it was locked, and it looked dark inside.
“I can let you in.” It was Cynthia, her hair swept up, one long curl hanging over her shoulder.
“You look beautiful. Merry Christmas.”
She wished me one, too, then started to pull her keys out of a little shiny bag that didn’t look big enough to hold a cell phone. She unlocked the door. “Just lock it when you leave.” She smiled and went back out to the party.
I went in and turned on the desk light. I’d finished my wine, so I took a bottle from the office bar. I wondered how Brian could work in an office without a window he could look out of.
The music outside got a little louder, and I could hear the rising and falling waves of laughter and conversation. I sat on the sofa watching the play of lights on the office doors, and drank Brian’s scotch.
Brian’s POV
I convinced the fire marshal to show a little Christmas spirit, gave the plumber enough money to buy Santa’s entire workshop, and headed for Kinnetik. The first thing I heard when I walked in was Cynthia’s laugh. She was standing under a drift of tiny lights, a champagne glass in her hand, talking to Richard Bohling.
“So, did you carefully position yourself so the lighting would highlight all the beads in your dress, or was the effect just pure instinct?” I helped myself to a drink from a passing waiter’s tray.
“Fashionably late, as always, Brian?” She raised her eyebrow in a way she’d learned from me.
I gave her a look that said “Don’t ask,” then turned to her companion. “Richard.”
“Brian.” He shook my hand.
“Couldn’t stay away from the vibrant Pittsburgh nightlife and culture? Or is it our phenomenal weather?”
He laughed. “My family’s here. But this weather’s a phenomenon, all right. I was actually hoping it would be a little better here than in New York, but I think it’s colder.” He took a sip from what I could have sworn was an ice cream sundae glass. With a straw in it. And whipped cream.
He noticed my face, and nodded at his drink. “Frozen hot chocolate. Your caterer seems to have been to Serendipity.”
Hot chocolate. At one of my parties. And one of New York’s wealthiest and most successful club and restaurant owners was drinking it. “I need,” I said, “something a little stronger than hot chocolate.”
I started heading for the bar, and stopped when I saw the formerly gaping hole in the side of the lobby, or rather, didn’t see it. Ted materialized at my elbow in a distinctively Ted-like manner. “I know. I didn’t believe it either.”
Emmett floated over to us. “Amazing what a little cheap gauze, some tarps, and a few strings of Christmas lights can do.”
Ted’s voice was firm. “Or $60 a yard silk organza, white velvet theater curtains, and stage lighting from a theatrical supply house in New York.”
Emmett nodded. “Or that.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Just don’t tell me how much it cost.”
Ted clapped my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bri, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I decided it was time to change the subject. “Have you seen Justin?”
Emmett answered. “I saw him before the party started. He was wearing a charcoal sweater over black slacks with a white shirt.”
I cut him off before he told me what color socks Justin had on. “I’m familiar with his wardrobe, and I’m pretty sure I could pick him out of a crowd no matter what he had on. Any idea where he is?”
They both shook their heads, so I got myself a drink that contained not one drop of hot chocolate, and surveyed the room.
I had to admit it didn’t look anything like it had the day before. The contractor hadn’t just ripped a hole in the wall earlier in the week; he’d had to remove some of the partitions that attached to that wall, leaving everything looking a little too post-apocalyptic even for a converted bathhouse. Even with the lights dimmed and the liberal application of gauze, I wouldn’t have expected this. It was like being inside an ice palace.
The music changed, this time to something that might actually have gotten played at Babylon. Early in the evening. On a slow night. I took another sip of my drink, and the conversation level rose over the music. Even the tiny lights seemed to vibrate with the beat.
I saw Lindsay on the far side of the room, standing in front of Justin’s paintings with Richard and Ben. She was nodding at something Richard was saying, and Ben was listening intently. She saw me watching them, and walked over to me.
“Emmett’s outdone himself.” She kissed my cheek.
“It’s all right.” I shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re such a shit.”
“Hey, Debbie says I’ve mellowed.”
She snorted, and took something extremely high in carbs and fat from a waiter.
“Don’t eat too many of those, or you won’t be able to wear that rather lovely sweater.” I brushed my fingers across her arm. “Is that cashmere?”
She nodded, her mouth softening. “It was a Chanukah gift from Mel.”
“Ah, she had Emmett do her holiday shopping this year?”
She smacked my arm. “Shut up. Melanie has exquisite taste.”
I gave her a pained look, but in the spirit of the season, I didn’t argue the point.
I schmoozed my clients, greeted Jennifer Taylor and her date, was kind to my employees, made an intern’s night by remembering her name, and finally got to the other side of the room. And I still hadn’t seen Justin.
I knew Cynthia had locked up my office, but I could see a light over by the desk. On a sudden hunch, I tried the door.
And there was Justin, curled up on the sofa with a bottle of scotch in his hand. He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a swallow. “Hey.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He grinned at me. “Waiting for you.”
I bit my lip and laughed at the same time. Then I sat next to him on the sofa and he handed me the bottle. I took a long swallow, set it on the table, and dropped my arm along the back of his shoulder.
He smiled and ran his hand over my thigh. “So, I think we’ve averted Ted’s curse.”
I looked at him sideways. “How’s that?”
“He told you to let me blow you before the party. The party’s going on now, so it’s no longer before the party. Therefore, no more curse.”
I laughed, and pulled him closer, kissing him. His mouth tasted like scotch, and his hand moved up to my belt, starting to unfasten it.
When he closed his fingers around my cock, I groaned into his mouth. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and kept kissing him even while he started to slide down towards my crotch.
“Brian?”
“Fuck. Theodore.”
Justin was laughing into my shoulder.
“Brian, it’s time for the speech. Cynthia said she thought you were in here…”
Justin was still laughing, and whispered, “We’re still cursed.”
I pinched him. “I’ll be right there.”
I waited until Ted left, then touched my forehead to Justin’s. “I’m firing him. Right after Christmas.”
Justin just kissed me. “It’s not like you don’t owe me ten thousand blowjobs already.”
I looked at him. “Why does that number keep getting higher no matter how many times I blow you?”
He flicked his thumb over the head of my dick, and I groaned.
Justin’s POV
We went back out into the sparkling noise, and Brian took two glasses of champagne from the bar and handed me one. I smiled over the edge of my glass, seeing three people, including Richard Bohling and the head of Kinnetik’s art department, standing in front of my paintings.
Brian squeezed the back of my neck. He got up on a little makeshift platform, gave a short and sincere-sounding speech about the season, grinned at everyone in a way that told them he didn’t mean any of it, then raised his glass and knocked it back like it was a tequila shot instead of a goblet full of painfully expensive champagne.
He was surrounded by clients the minute he was done. I went over to where my mom and her date were laughing with Debbie and Carl. While pretending to be enthralled by a discussion of the college and career plans of everyone’s various children, I saw Lindsay. I wandered over to her, slid my arm around her waist, and kissed her cheek. “I love the color of your sweater.”
She laughed. “You, Emmett, and Brian all admired it. I’ll have to tell Mel she hit the gay-men-with-good-taste trifecta.”
Emmett walked up and bent down conspiratorially. “Who’s the tall dark and hot with your mother, and what happened to the hunky boy toy?”
I took a sip of my wine. “Tucker went to California to get his PhD, and the guy she’s with is the head of the commercial real estate division at the agency where she works.”
Emmett looked at my mom’s date for a long minute. “He’s yummy. Your mother has excellent taste in men.”
“With one notable exception,” I commented dryly.
Emmett looked stricken. “Oh, honey! Is your father still financing the anti-gay fundamentalists? He hasn’t had you arrested again, has he?”
Lindsay choked on her wine, but I just laughed. “No. He’s just decided my sister has to go to St. James or he’s not paying her tuition.”
Lindsay and Emmett both stared at me. “I don’t think,” Emmett said slowly, “even my daddy back in Hazelhurst would have done that.”
I shrugged. The shrug having become a fundamental part of my communication repertoire recently.
“What does your sister think about that?” It was Lindsay, concern written all over her face.
“She’s all for it.” I didn’t even bother trying not to sound bitter. “She blames me because our mom won’t let her go there.”
Emmett snorted. “Blames you?”
I suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do about my dad. I figured that out a long time ago.”
Lindsay looked distressed, but dutifully changed the subject. “Your paintings look beautiful where Brian hung them, although I assume this isn’t how they’re normally lit.”
Emmett got dragged off by one of his staffers. Lindsay and I wandered over to where my paintings were hung, and I contemplated the effect of the dim lighting. “I actually like the way it makes the metallic elements more subtle.”
She tilted her head. “It makes the paintings too decorative.”
I glanced at her. “They border on that already.”
“I don’t agree. They play with that. It’s completely different.”
I felt myself smile, but didn’t say anything.
Lindsay looked at me for a minute. “There’s some benefit to having watched your work develop from sketches of Brian to what you’re doing now.”
“I still sketch Brian.” I sipped my wine.
She nodded. “You always will. And I hope you’ll always sketch Gus, and Jenny Rebecca.” She sighed. “It’s part of why you’re an artist, and I manage an art gallery. I could stop. You never could, even when you could barely hold a pencil.”
“This looks serious.” It was Melanie, two glasses of wine in her hands, Ben right behind her. She handed one of them to Lindsay, and then kissed me. “Happy Holidays.”
Lindsay’s voice was full of laughter. “That’s her subtle form of protest against the Christianization of modern society.”
Ben shook his head. “All cultures celebrate some form of winter holiday or festival. Christianity just co-opted the time of year.”
“Christians will tell you modern society is being de-Christianized.” I shrugged. “Just ask my father.”
Mel snorted. “What’s the asshole doing now?”
Lindsay and I looked at each other, and then back at Mel and Ben. “He wants my sister to go to St. James.”
Ben looked disgusted. Melanie choked, and Lindsay thumped her on the back. “You’re kidding.” She looked at my face, then at Lindsay’s. “You’re not kidding.”
“Not kidding.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
I laughed. “More Christianization of modern society?”
She nodded just as Emmett came back. “Fuck, yes. Has your father lost his fucking mind?”
Emmett shook his head. “Based on the one time I met Justin’s father, I’d say that’s a good guess.”
“You didn’t exactly meet my father.” My wine glass was empty, and I set it down.
Emmett nodded agreeably. “True. I watched your father beating up Brian. That doesn’t count as meeting him.”
“I’d have…”
Lindsay cut Melanie off. “So, Justin, when is your next show?”
I grinned at her. “I’m going to have three pieces included in a group show at a gallery in Boston in March.”
Ben beamed at me. “Congratulations, Justin. That’s great.”
Emmett and Melanie were talking to each other quietly and giggling, and Lindsay glared at them. Emmett looked slightly guilty, and gave me his best social butterfly smile. “Where’s Daphne tonight?”
“Florida. She keeps leaving Pittsburgh and going to warm, tropical places for the holidays. Last year she was in Hawaii.”
Emmett shook his head. “I’m always ready to fly somewhere tropical by February, but this time of year I want snow and mittens and holly and Christmas trees.” He sighed dreamily. “And hot cocoa.”
“And shoveling snow and traffic and heating bills that cost more than the mortgage.” It was Melanie, spreading more seasonal cheer.
I went to the bar and got another drink.
Brian’s POV
I was leaning on one of the few remaining walls in my building, watching Michael work his way through the crowd towards me. I had my hand casually wrapped around the neck of a bottle of champagne that I planned on using to lure Justin into my office for the blowjob he kept getting out of giving me.
“Shit, Brian, this is as bad as Babylon.” Michael kissed my cheek.
I put a shocked expression on my face. “I can’t believe you could be so insensitive as to suggest that vast, overwhelming crowds at my club are a bad thing.” I sipped my drink. “How else can I afford all this?” I gestured at the sparkling space in front of us.
Michael looked out at the crowd. “Yeah. Right. It’s Babylon that pays for Kinnetik.”
“Babylon pays its way.”
He looked at me, and smiled. “Even if it didn’t, you’d keep it anyway. I know how you feel about your playground.”
“You know, Mikey, being the CEO of your playground has its drawbacks.”
He looked down at his drink and didn’t say anything, but he smiled in a very irritating way.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Christ.” I shook my head and started to walk away.
Michael grabbed my arm, laughing. “Hey!”
I shook him off, but I stopped. “What is it about me that draws all these irritatingly persistent assholes into my life, who follow me everywhere I go?”
“It’s either your natural charm or you give off some kind of hormone smell. Like a dog.” It was Debbie, her gigantic Christmas tree ball ornaments bobbing against her neck. I fought the impulse to take a long swallow from the bottle I was still clutching in my left hand.
“Debbie. How lovely you look tonight.” I made my voice as genuine as possible. And in fact, she did look nice, glowing and not too colorful. Apparently Emmett had picked out her outfit, if not the earrings.
“Great party, Brian.” It was Carl, solid and ill-shod as always. I shook his hand, murmured all the expected things, and finally escaped everyone. I cornered my prey at the bar, and nuzzled his neck from behind.
“Aren’t you supposed to blow me?”
Justin gave me a look over his shoulder. “Supposed to?”
I nodded. “I had it all planned. I don’t know what keeps going wrong.”
He laughed. “It’s the Ted curse.”
I stood at the bar with him for a while, drinking and watching the room start to empty out. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and almost everyone was going somewhere else – another holiday party, home to wrap presents, some family thing. The music had dropped in volume, and I wondered if Emmett played subliminal messages telling people when it was time to get out.
I felt Justin’s hand start stroking my ass. I checked the bottle of champagne, got one of the bartenders to exchange it for one that was still cold, and pulled Justin by his hand back to my office.
It was still unlocked, but it was empty. I even checked the bathroom. And then I locked the door.
Justin’s POV
Brian and I were sitting on the sofa in his office, passing the champagne bottle back and forth. It had gotten warm and kind of flat, but we were so drunk we didn’t even notice. We were arguing over the terms of Ted’s curse and whether the party was actually over or not and if I should risk trying to blow him.
“Maybe,” I said, turning the bottle over to make sure it was really empty, “we should just go home.”
He looked sadly at the bottle, and pulled out his cell phone. He stared at it for a minute, and then punched in the car service number. He had it on speaker, and I heard them greet him by name.
“I’m at Kinnetik and I’m too drunk to drive home.” He sounded very cheerful for a man making what could have been a humiliating confession.
The dispatcher wasn’t phased. “Five minutes, Mr. Kinney.”
He snapped the phone shut. “They’ll be here in five minutes.” He glanced at me. “That’s not enough time, is it?”
I shook my head. “Not when I’m drunk.”
He stood up, held out his hand, and hauled me up next to him. I grabbed onto him, and we kissed sloppily for a few minutes. We were about to fall back down on the sofa again, when he shook his head. “Wait, the car’ll be here in a minute. We have to go out there.”
He steered me through the door. There wasn’t anyone left but the crew and Emmett, who was sitting on the counter talking to Ted and Blake.
I went up on my toes behind Brian, resting my hands on his shoulders. I put my mouth right at his ear. “Don’t let him curse us again.”
Brian snorted and then laughed, then snorted again.
The three of them turned around and saw us. Ted opened his mouth, but Brian held up a hand. “Nothing, Theodore. If you value your year-end bonus, don’t speak.”
The car pulled up just then, and the driver called Brian on his cell phone while we were pulling on our coats. I ran for the car and slid into the back, but even just the short time I was outside sucked all the heat out of my body. The cold air burned my lungs.
Brian slid in next to me, and slammed the door. I could feel the car’s heat then, and I felt even warmer when Brian put his arm around me. I kissed him most of the way home, just breaking away when we turned down our street. I liked to see the Christmas lights through the trees.
I left Brian giving the driver an obscenely large tip, and fumbled with my key at the front door. I couldn’t get it open, and I looked at Brian and frowned. “I’m not that drunk. My hands are just frozen.”
He took my key and tried it, and we finally got the door open. The blast of warmth from the house hit us. It was early, not even midnight yet.
Brian kissed me in the hall, and then he stopped me when I was going up the stairs in front of him, and kissed me again. He was standing on the step below me, so we were the same height. I nuzzled his hair, and he wrapped his arms around me and just held me for a long time.
I looked at his face, and smiled. “Come on.”
We went into the bedroom, and I kicked off my shoes. I knelt on the bed, sitting on my heels, while he got undressed. He knelt next to me when he was done, and pulled my sweater off over my head. He didn’t kiss me, just looked at me while he unbuttoned my shirt and unfastened my pants.
Then he smiled, and glanced at the clock next to the bed. “It’s midnight.”
I shook my head, confused. “What?”
He kissed me softly. “The curse. It must have lifted at midnight.”
I grinned at him, and closed my hand on his cock, making him give a sharp moan. “Lie down.”
He did, pulling me down next to him. I shoved my shirt off, then wriggled out of my pants and pushed them both onto the floor with my feet. I leaned on my elbow, stroking Brian’s cock with my other hand, and looking at his face. He had a really small, soft smile on his lips, and he’d wrapped his fingers lightly around my wrist on the arm I was leaning on.
I bent over his cock and swiped my tongue over the head, tasting his come and his skin. He moved, lifting his hips the tiniest bit towards my mouth, spreading his legs a little further apart. I murmured against his cock, kissing up and down its length, my free hand stroking gently at the insides of his thighs.
I could make Brian come in a minute, and I could hold him off for hours. I didn’t feel like playing any kind of game that night, though. I just wanted to keep him in my mouth, to breathe in his smell and taste him on my tongue. I wanted to feel him arching under me, and his hands gripping my hair.
He’d bent his knees, and I wrapped my left arm around one of his thighs, playing with my finger on his perineum. He reached down and moved my hand a little, and I cradled his balls in my palm, pressing them just slightly up towards his body, making him shudder and arch towards me even more.
I pulled my mouth away from his cock, replacing it with my hand, and buried my face in his balls, licking and sucking on them both. I flattened my tongue on his fake one, and gently pulled it into my mouth. When I moved to the other one, he gasped.
I lifted my head and looked at his face. His eyes were open, and he was watching me, his lips parted, breathing shallowly and fast. I smiled, and dragged my tongue from the base of his cock to the rim, right over the big vein. When he started thrusting into my mouth, his fingers so tight in my hair it hurt, I opened my throat and swallowed around him.
Brian gave another one of those hard moans, and I started moving my lips faster, sealing them in a tighter ring around his cock. I buried my nose in his pubes then pulled back, and then dove down again, taking him deeper every time. I had one hand wrapped around his thigh and the other resting on his stomach, and I could feel his muscles quivering.
When he came he almost shouted, but he bit it back, his head pressing into the pillow and his feet into the mattress. I could barely taste it before it went down my throat, but I pulled back at the end and caught the last drop on my tongue. I brought it up to him, and he licked it off my lips, his arms pulling me down on top of him, his hands smoothing the hair he’d been pulling so hard a minute before.
A little while later, he’d stopped stroking my hair, and his breathing was slow enough that I thought he was asleep. My eyes were closed and I was slipping over the edge of warm darkness when I heard him whisper, “I’m glad you came back.”
I didn’t wake all the way up. I thought maybe I was dreaming it. But I moved my face down so my cheek was on his heart, and curled my fingers around his hand.
Continued here...
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