Title: Dr. Dave Vs. The King Of Liberty Ave.

Author: Jenn/Stealthalmb

Rating: R

Pairing: B/OMC, B/M

Spoilers: Qaf season 1 ep. 106 <Think silver sequin cowboy hat, Brian in a sleeveless shirt and Mikey in the middle>

Disclaimer: QaF characters and concepts are the property/copyrite and trademark of Cowlip and Showtime. I do this purely for fun and make no money off of my work.

Archive: ATP/Always/Stealthlamb's Slash

 

Brian's POV:

 

Mikey rebuffed my first offer. Not an altogether unheard of prospect but there was something in the way his body recoiled from mine that told me this was a little more than your average "just say no."

 

Apparently, drugs aren't the only things Dr. Dave has advised my Mikey to stay away from. Hmph!

 

I hold him a little closer. As my smile widens Michael is instantly aware of my intentions. I extend my tongue again; the tiny tablet resting precariously on the tip and I can see it in his eyes; that spark, that smile, the very reason that I behave the way that I do around him-or should I say misbehave?

 

Michael's voice is laced with laughter but he continues to gyrate his hot little body to "Dancing Queen" feigning awareness to what comes next. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a bad influence?"

 

A wicked little smile is my reply and I wait patiently for my next window of opportunity. With his first unguarded moment, I pounce.

 

"You ought to mmmph..."

 

Hooking my arm around his shoulder prevents his escape. I inhale as moisture and heat flood my mouth and though we've done this maneuver a hundred times before this time I can't help but honey it; angle my chin to spear him just right; just enough of a difference for him to question if that was really a kiss or not.

 

Everything is charged including the air around us. The pumping of the techno music is melding with my pulse and after that little display and the flush on Mikey's cheeks, it has now taken up residence in my dick.

 

And I don't need Mysterious Marylin to know that Dave is watching. I can feel it.

 

I mean I always kiss Mikey so it's not like I'm just doing this; behaving like this out of spite-not really. Still, I guess I'll admit it, not aloud mind you, but yeah deep down, with every kiss I share with Mikey I am proving something, laying my claim and marking him in front of Babylon, the masses and the entire fucking world; letting Dave know in no uncertain terms not to get too comfortable. This is just a loaner, Doc. You're only here because I'm allowing it. But make no mistake, eventually, pal, your lease is going to be up.

 

None of that matters right now though because all I want to do is concentrate on tasting Mikey in my mouth. His shy and uncertain little movements as he tentatively retrieves the tab of 'E' from my tongue are so erotic. I feel them everywhere.

 

My chest aches. There's a tingling that starts in the back of my throat and radiates through to the palms of my hands and balls. My balls feel full and tight.

 

And it's one of those nights where I'm feeling selfish because even after he's recovered his prize I can't help but linger a little, hold him a little tighter, slip into him a little deeper.

 

Afterwards, our foreheads press together and we both take a much-needed moment to collect ourselves. When we finally pull apart a feeling of warmth spreads throughout my entire body. He's feeling it too.

 

His smile radiates and I know it's not the drugs or the song or the hundreds of other bodies writhing around us. The heat is me and it's him and nothing exists past this moment and the hundreds of others just like it that we've shared over the years and I know that Dave can just fuck off because he will never really have Mikey. It's written all over his face.

 

For an instant I want to look away but only so I can see the devastation that I know must be lurking in the Doc's eyes right now. So I'm a bastard, so what? Who doesn't know that?

 

Love filled chocolate orbs fill my vision at that moment and I smile. My Mikey, that's who.

 

Our eyes lock as we continue where we left off, our bodies skirting but never actually touching. At the moment our gaze is our only connection. It's a deliberate move on both of our parts, a tactical necessity-keeping both of our bodies several inches apart. On nights like this it's the only contact we can allow without getting ourselves into a situation that we're both not ready for. One day. But for now...

 

Suddenly that slim little waist is cradled in my hands. I have no idea how Mikey managed to get so close without me noticing-sort of the story of our lives, but one thing becomes abundantly clear; just how essential those few inches really are.

 

Sometimes things are just that intense with Mikey and me. And when you factor in the 'E', sixteen years of repressed sexual desire and the most intense fucking dislike I've ever felt over one of Mikey's fucks it pretty obvious that something's got to give.

 

The smiles are gone from our faces now but not because we're not having fun. On the contrary, that thin line we both walk/dance, shifted at some point and unfortunately neither one of us was paying attention. We're both too high and horny to care anymore and that's a dangerous combination.

 

But lucky for us some higher power <and not the kind that that bitch Anita brews in a bathtub in Tijuana> intervenes and sends us a guardian angel. Well a guardian cowboy actually, and he's gorgeous, tan and cut; right out of every gay boys wet dream.

 

I'm taking in Cowboy's appearance when our eyes meet over Mikey's shoulder and I notice that it isn't me that has his interest. He's asking me for permission to share Mikey.

 

Granted it's not my call to make but having that power in my hands, and especially over Mikey is fuckin' hot. Wordlessly I nod. The Sequin Cowboy as I've come to know him-complete with six-gun... well, more like eight and a half if his bulge is any indication, sidles up behind Mikey and we all begin to move as one.

 

Whether it was Cowboy's body heat or his ample weaponry, Mikey senses his presence. He turns and offers our new friend a smile because that's what Mikey does and Cowboy seems to be elated by the reaction. He smiles back and plunks his hat down on Mikey's head. It's a little too big and covers his eyes. If you ask me it suits Mikey perfectly. Before I know it I'm smiling too and thankfully that life-altering tension is gone and has now been replaced by the good old fashioned sexual kind.

 

Large hands splay across slim hips. I watch as Cowboy glances down. I can see his eyes measuring just how good Michael's tight little bottom would feel pinned against his thighs. I know. I practically have that image burned into my brain.

 

It's strange but in some twisted little way I'm proud of Mikey's desirability; though how I would be at all responsible for that I have no idea. But I'm also torn.

 

I'm torn between wanting to watch this beautiful man taking my Mikey from behind, and that always unexpected possessive streak that rips through my body whenever anyone that isn't me touches him.

 

But I'm moving forward through no volition of my own about to let Mikey hear what my tricks hear right before following me out the door and into my bed; those softly spoken words that will surely blow the last sixteen years of restraint out of the water just to imbibe in some voyeuristic kink I've suddenly picked up when Dave appears and <shudder> I'm almost glad to see him.

 

Well, glad might be an overstatement but for once I am relieved that he's here. I bet he'd hate to know that wrapping those possessive arms around my Mikey like that probably just saved our friendship.

 

Michael knows he's there even before he turns and I have to admit that I'm a bit jealous with that one. I thought that I was the only one with that kind of connection to him, but it's probably just the smell of the Doc's Ben Gay that alerted him to Dave's presence... <cough> I mean cologne.

 

"Hey hot stuff, wanna' dance?"

 

I smile. Mikey is so out of it.

 

"I don't think so." Dave's gruffness surprises me. He spares a sharp disapproving look for both the Cowboy and me. As if the stud in the spandex could give a shit that he's dry humping someone else's boyfriend. Idiot.

 

Hell, if Mikey were mine to take home...tonight... I guess I would be none too pleased to find him sandwiched between a half naked go-go boy and-well, lets be honest-myself. Still, I have a little while until I have to worry about that.

 

"Well," Mikey continues oblivious to the tension Dave is directing at me. "What do you wanna' do?"

 

And he just had to do it. Dave specifically turns to scowl in my direction as he encases Mikey in those muscular arms of his.

 

As if you'd stand a chance if I wanted to make Mikey mine tonight. Schmuck.

 

"Wanna' take you home," Dave whispers in his ear.

 

Mikey's grinning from ear to ear as the Doc shuffles him off. Well, good for you, Dave. Mikey's gonna' be on fire tonight; like putty in your hands-all wanton and slick. Better not continue with that train of thought.

 

I snag Cowboy by the waist and drag him towards the exit that Mikey and Dave just disappeared through. Once outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air and light up a cigarette while stud is sucking on my neck. Looking to my left I'm suddenly paralyzed. I see Dave pinned  against his Jaguar. He's slowly being devoured by Mikey's eager mouth.

 

I think he knows I'm here too. It's not the slowness with which his hand is snaking it's way into the back of Mikey's pants that makes me think that either. It's the salacious grin that is accompanying it.

 

Yeah, you're going to get lucky tonight, Dave but don't let it go to your head. So am I. And so are a hundred other guys.

 

Look at him kissing you and touching you with his eyes tightly shut. Who's Mikey going home with, Dave? Think about it. 

 

Just because you've got him bed, doesn't make him yours.

~Fini~

jennifer rosen 2003

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