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Stumbling into his loft, Brian tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and absently glanced at the clock-couldn't read it. Swaying and shutting one eye he leaned forward until the smudged glow on the LED display finally took on a form resembling the hour. 11:30pm.
"And I'm home why?"
Behind him, the large metal entryway door slid shut with a bang. "Right," he groused watching as the hunk de jour, this one in a sequin cowboy hat took in his surroundings. "Ride 'em Cowboy," he mumbled to himself.
"Hey, nice place, man."
"Yes, it is." Brian answered arrogantly. "Don't bother making yourself at home."
He was too horny for small talk tonight. Actually, he was always too horny for small talk, unfortunately tonight he was also too horny for a quickie in a bathroom stall or a backroom blow in Babylon either, hence the company.
Tonight nothing but the full fuck would do-bed sex; hot, sweaty, ass fucking, skin on skin leave you sore in the morning man sex. And though not his first choice this guy was going to have to do.
Brian tried to focus, to block out the images from earlier on, the reason why he was so hard in the first place; that compact little frame writhing against him in carefree abandon, the dark, fathomless eyes and blindingly bright smile that caressed him from the inside out. With a cleansing breath, he tried to shake it off.
God he was so hard and nothing it seemed short of watching Smelly Melly sucking off Theodore Schmidt was going to deflate this particular erection. "Fuck."
Ruefully shaking his head, Brian's drunken voice echoed through the loft as he staggered toward bathroom. "No more 'E' for Mikey and me."
"That his name..." A sexy voice drifted in from the bedroom behind him. "Mikey?"
With a sharper motion than he had intended Brian tugged his zipper down, thankfully missing anything vital along the way. For some reason hearing his best friend's name sliding slowly out of this stranger's mouth had him inexplicably on edge.
"I've seen him around Babylon you know-with you mostly." His trick continued on oblivious to the mounting tension within his would be bed partner. "Such a tight little body on him...And that ass..." Cowboy was stroking himself, his ample bulge straining against his thin red spandex shorts; the same bulge Brian silently noted that just a few hours ago was trying to burrow it's way into his best friend's ass.
Glancing over his shoulder toward the boy short clad figure now lying comfortably on his bed, Brian grit his teeth. He really hated it when they talked.
Brian was briefly aware that the sensation from earlier in the evening was returning; that odd mix of anger and desire that coiled and warred deep within his belly leaving him hard, hot, nauseas and very confused. Not bothering to zip up, he found himself maneuvering toward the bed.
Despite his growing aggravation, he couldn't stop his eyes from greedily traversing the well-oiled and slightly tanned body laid out before him. "I'm sorry, did I miss something because I could have sworn you came home with me," he snapped.
"Hey, easy now." Cowboy stiffened wondering if he completely misjudged the signals passing between the two men earlier this evening. "He's hot is all. With the way you two were dancing I figured you thought so too, you know?"
And Brian did know. Shirt buttons popping, his eyes bore into his playmate's. Dropping to his knees he crawled across the mattress and mounted his new toy. "He is hot..." Brian agreed, his warm breath blowing against Cowboy's neck as a bout of pleasurable nips and bites made their way up to his ear. "...And he's none of your business," he added harshly.
Though Brian seemed to be nixing any further discussion concerning the sweet little number from earlier in the evening, Cowboy could feel a definite "interest" growing between Brian's legs.
"Would have been my business if I'd gotten to take him home like I'd wanted to until that old guy showed up. Who the hell was he, anyway?"
'Old guy.' Brian couldn't hold back a grin at that, a smirk that Cowboy instantly returned.
"That 'old guy' is the man that gets to run his liver spotted hands all over that hot little body tonight while you're just lying here talking about it."
"So, he's not your boyfriend then." Cowboy grinned slyly pleased with the sudden anger that flashed across the handsome, hazel-eyed face looming above him. He hadn't expected to get such a reaction from the well-schooled features of the great and infamous Brian Kinney.
"Mi-key..." He enunciated the name letting it roll perversely off the tip of his tongue. "Lot a' the guys around the Ave. are curious about you two..."
Brian had already started blocking out Cowboy's voice, a mental image of Michael being ushered off by Dave flashing through his mind. Reaching over the side of the bed, he retrieved the discarded Cowboy hat. "Leave it on," he stated flatly. "And take it off," he ordered, snapping the waistband of Cowboy's shorts hoping that his guest would take the hint and get down to business.
Cowboy made quick work of his attire without dislodging his bedmate but was unable to resist pushing the envelope. "Ever had him?" he murmured hotly, his lips kissing and nipping each accessible patch of Brian's heated skin.
Brian's eyes darkened considerably and with a sudden shove, Cowboy found himself pressed into a pile of pillows. "Knock it off or you'll find yourself staring at the wrong side of a sliding metal door. Got it?" he growled, punctuating his point with a bruising finger to the chest.
Cowboy smiled, his hands running up the length Brian's thighs, thumbs pressing inward at his groin and framing Brian's engorged cock against the fabric of his pants. "Looks to me like your enjoying the foreplay, hon."
Brian hadn't expected that. No one had ever called him out so blatantly on his feelings for Michael. Unwilling to give anything away especially to this stranger Brian waited. Speechless. Breathless.
"I've watched you with him-dancing, kissing... and I'm dying to know, just how do those plump pink lips taste?" A powerful heat swirled in Brian's gut as his fuck latched onto his mouth and though he was teetering on the edge fury Brian still couldn't seem to bring himself to break the contact-nor could he hold back the effect those words were having on him. Before he could pull himself back from the precipice of hormonal bliss a low and guttural moan escaped his lips.
Brian was being overwhelmed by sensations, hot and hard, wet and deep his mind and body being sucked into the game quite literally.
So just this once with his eyes tightly shut its Mikey's breath, moist and heavy against his skin, thighs and body wantonly open, shamelessly granting him entry to what he's always denied himself. With a helpless shiver Brian allows himself to be cradled within that wicked heat he's longed for... Lost in a haze, Brian almost put a name to his want but caught himself just in time; a barley discernable "Mikey" choked back on the cusp of eruption swallowed whole along with most of the Cowboy's tongue.
Still it was enough, the sound; bellowing out more like a groan somewhere in between pain and passion belying to himself any illusion of control that Brian might have still been harboring. Not only voicing it for the first time aloud, but proclaiming it to his audience of one.
Cowboy heard the desperation and renewed his attack, his fierce tongue plunging steadfast and strong as if to devour Brian, to draw out his innermost desire and make it his own. He wanted the brunette and he wanted Brian and he wanted to come more than anything else.
The newfound aggression in his partner doesn't gel too well with Brian's fantasy and he decides to take back control. He has to in order to fulfill his ache. Even in his dreams this has to be just right.
His movements are deliberate, measured and refined as Brian slows his tongue, his stroking possessive and deep. Languid licks across Cowboy's pallet conflict deliciously with unrelenting the passion his need is brutally inflicting, snapping harshly against Cowboy's hips.
The moment stretches and Cowboy's groan, is all of the evidence anyone would need to know what it's like to be held fast within the pornographic grace that is Brian Kinney.
Brian breaks for breath heaving harshly against this stranger's swollen lips. He doesn't want to see because he knows that when he does the illusion will be shattered but he knows he has to open his eyes eventually.
Cowboy is watching him. His lust-glazed eyes are beautiful without a doubt, but still, they aren't the eyes that he wants to have staring up at him right now.
"Fuck me." Cowboy is desperate, like he can sense the change coming over Brian. "Show me," he pleads, almost insists. "Fuck me like you'd fuck him, sink into his tight little ass..."
And Brian wants to get back into the game. To once again convince himself that it would be okay just for tonight. Okay to let go and live out the fantasies in his head with this body. Okay to fuck Mikey because that's the game and sex is always a game with Brian...
And that's the long and short of it and it hits Brian with the force of atom bomb; Why he has been denying himself for the last sixteen years. Because, with Mikey it would never be a game-Never with Mikey.
And just like that, he's soft.
Brian rolls off of the overheated body beneath him. "Get out." He doesn't know if he said it aloud or not but it bears repeating before he changes his mind and cheapens the one thing he holds dear. "Get. Out."
"You're not..." Looking incredulous, his cock stiff, standing proud and leaking a silvery snails trail across his own stomach, Cowboy presses up onto his elbows. "You're not fucking serious."
"And you're not getting laid." Brian lets out a shaky breath and runs a long fingered hand through his hair. "Get out." But this time he sounds defeated, less firm.
After a moment's pause and a last optimistic glance toward Brian in hopes of a reprieve, Cowboy finally accepts defeat. Shaking his head he starts looking around for something on the floor, in the bedding.
'He came here in his underwear,' Brian briefly notes. 'Underwear, boots and cowboy hat. What the fuck's he looking for?' Even his inner voice is frustrated.
Still, he doesn't ask, just lays there watching perfectly molded muscles flex and pull in front of him until finally the search produces results. 'Socks,' Brian silently muses.
'Here I've got this unbelievably hot trick, buff and beautiful and hotter than hell... And he still doesn't hold a candle to Mikey.' Brian smiles.
Without thinking, Brian reaches for his pants and tosses Cowboy a bill. Could be a twenty, a fifty even a hundred... he doesn't normally carry anything smaller and doesn't bother to check the denomination. No matter what it is he knows it'll get the trick wherever he's going.
He sees a flash of horror flicker across the already disappointed face and realizes what the poor guy must be thinking. "Cab fare," he amends quickly. Not that he wouldn't pay for it-knows where to go for that too, just...
Once ready, Cowboy stands at the foot of Brian's bed, almost in showdown stance Brian notes with a silent chuckle. With the money stuffed securely in his waistband he lets out an uninspired yet genuine thank you.
As if he had been working up the courage, finally Cowboy sets his stare on the figure that has been lying prone on the bed watching him through a clump of disheveled bangs and drink laden lids. "You ARE Brian Kinney, right?"
Brian's amused and slightly alarmed that this man with whom he's been intimate but never introduced knows his name. But he sees no malice in the face above him.
"My reputation proceeds me," Brian mumbles in answer, rifling through his drawer for a smoke and waiting patiently for the inevitable ribbing he's guessing he's about to receive. He's been here before.
'You have one bad night and they never let you forget it...' Lighting up, he takes a deep drag, the smoke burning sweetly in his lungs.
"So technically," Cowboy begins cautiously, "I never had my once."
Brian chokes. "What?"
"You never do repeats, right? Fuck 'em once and forget 'em. But technically, you haven't had me yet. I've never had my once, right?"
Brian has to laugh at the balls on this guy. "Technically..."
Taking a few steps forward, Cowboy picks up someone else's business card from the top of Brian's nightstand and scribbles something on back. "Name's Luke," he grins and it's such a pretty grin that Brian almost feels bad and considers inviting him back to bed. Almost.
"We'll set this up for another time." He doesn't ask but the optimism in his voice is hard to miss. "I can see myself out." With a wink, he tosses the card at Brian and disappears down the steps.
Only when the door closes does Brian finally glance at the card. "Luke," he repeats aloud around his cigarette. 'Too bad, he was nice enough,' he thinks to himself. Things just got a little too intense.
Fiddling with the card as he smokes, he once again starts conjuring up images from earlier on; Michael moments, Michael's lips, smiles, soft laughs and hesitant touches... And once again, he's hard.
"Fuck!"
In a fit of frustration he tosses the card but it doesn't go very far, just flips over and ends up laying face up on his lap.
A comic book store....
What's he doing with the business care from a comic book store? Oh yeah...Brian smiles. That hot little fuck with the blue eyes, tattoos and black curly hair that was eyeing him up the very same morning Brian himself had told Michael to give the doc another chance...
Before he'd actually met the doc, that is.
"Fuckin' hindsight..." Brian murmured angrily reaching for his phone. As it begins to ring, he glances his alarm clock. 12:15am. Luckily it's still early.
~Fini~
JenniferRosen”2003