Gap-Filler for Episode 17
Last night was Deb's dinner for Senator Baxter, and I was surprised when Brian showed up. I mean, I asked him to come and he said "maybe" like he always does, but that kind of get-together is not really his thing, he'd rather be hanging out at Woody's than eating putanesca at the Novotny house. So I was slightly amazed when he showed up.
He'd let me come over after the demonstration at St. James on Monday, and even though we didn't make love, he let me sleep with him. When he woke up in the middle of the night, I tried to be there for him, I could tell he was really cranked. I don't know the details, he doesn't share much with me, but I figured out he was upset about that French guy living with Lindsay. He got up and started drinking, of course I woke up, I always feel it when he leaves the bed. I wanted to talk to him about it and he tried to push me away, but I knew what he was up to so I didn't let myself get upset. I refused to leave and just kissed him and then went back to bed. I fell asleep but later when he finally slipped in beside me, his body was chilly and tense, and I sort of halfway woke up and put my arms around him and hung on till he got warm and his muscles relaxed. I thought we might fool around in the shower that morning, but he was real distracted and hardly even talked to me, just gave me a ride to school. I was starving but I didn't ask him to stop at McDonalds, I could tell he was in a rush.
Later I found out from Lindsay that Brian had signed over his parental rights to Melanie, which helped the women get back together at last. I like to think I influenced Brian to make that decision, but I'll never know for sure. It's funny how it was me (or anyway, I think so) who helped talk him out of signing over Gus months before, and now here I was on the other side of the fence. Not that I wanted him to give up his son, not really. I wonder if he will turn away from Gus now? I know Lindsay is worried that he will, I sure hope not. He loves that baby so much, no matter what anybody thinks. Lindsay says that Gus brings out a good side of Brian. She says that I do, too.
Debbie was excited that a state senator was coming to her house for dinner, and I helped her vacuum and dust extra well. Debbie loves her house, but it was hard for me at first to get used to living here. If you're an artist, all the crazy wallpapers scream at you, and if you're used to living in a quiet house, wow, it's real different to live someplace where you can hear somebody pissing in the upstairs toilet. I try to be quiet jerking off, but I'm sure Deb and Vic hear me. It's embarrassing but what can you do?
Senator Baxter arrived on time and she is really so down-to-earth and kind, and funny too. When Brian got there she shook his hand and said, "Oh, yes, you're the one who took that waiter on a tour of the house, are you an architect?" Everybody laughed, even Brian.
I laughed too but it reminded me that I hadn't liked the way Brian had grabbed that guy and pulled him upstairs at David's. We'd all agreed ahead of time to flirt and carry on with the guests, I did my part and got a stodgy old guy with a pointy nose to dance with me. I was not really comfortable in the midriff tee Emmett picked out for me to wear, so I was glad when the old guy put his jacket around my shoulders. Anyway, I knew why Brian was messing with the waiter, but I didn't like it. I couldn't believe Brian's outfit, it was hysterical, he said he felt like a pimp, Emmett loaned him some tight shiny patent-leather pants and a transparent snakeskin-print shirt. He looked hot, but no way would Brian ever dress as flashy as that. I wonder if he took that waiter home with him. The guy was intensely cute, so probably he did. I can't think about it though. I left with Debbie after Michael said some mean things to her in the middle of the party.
Last night we were all sprawled around Deb's living room, eating bowls of putanesca and talking to Senator Baxter, she said my principal agreed to talk to the school board about our gay-straight alliance. Then Michael showed up, looking guilty and embarrassed. The minute he walked in, Brian slipped away, he grabbed his leather jacket and went out the back door. Of course I hurried after him, thinking he was leaving, but he only went out for a smoke. When he saw me, he said that the Senator was just using me to get money and votes. I don't want to be so cynical, I think she really likes me, but Brian is majorly smart about things like that so I listened to him. Then he offered me a supercharger shot.
The smoke burned my throat but I tried not to flinch; Brian had given me a supercharger only once before and I'd had a coughing fit that time. I like to smoke, or anyway, it's cool and makes me look older, I'm cursed with this damn baby face so people don't always take me seriously. Then Brian reminded me that just because the Senator had gotten involved, I couldn't stop being careful or else I'd end up dead, so I slipped my arm around his waist and said something dumb like, "I'll be okay as long as I have you to protect me." I halfway expected him to push me away but instead he pulled me closer, and I felt so happy and so safe in that moment.
After a few minutes we went back in the house and Brian said thanks and goodbye and left (he didn't talk to Michael at all, I think something is up between them). I'd asked to go home with him but he reminded me it was a school night. I thought he'd go on to Babylon and pick somebody up, but an hour later he called me on his cell from the jeep, and said he'd changed his mind, and I could come over if I wanted to. The senator was gone by then and Deb and I were just clearing up. She said go ahead, but be home by midnight. It was already after nine and my homework was all done but she insisted, so I said okay. Right then I heard the jeep's horn, Brian must've been just a few blocks away when he called me. I grabbed my jacket and ran out the door.
“Where’s your bag?” he asked, and I told him Deb had ordered me home by midnight. He swung his head around and stared out the windshield for a moment, then he threw the jeep into park, shut off the engine and said “Wait here.” He got out and went up the path to the door. In two minutes he was back. He pulled open my door, jerked his thumb toward the house and said shortly, “Get your stuff.”
Brian was in one of his tense moods, usually when he’s tense he doesn’t want me around him. He said once I’m too fucking happy; I remember laughing, but it had stung a little at the time. I’d tried for a while after that, for an hour or two, to be more somber, but finally he’d told me to start acting normal or he’d kick my ass. He’d meant it as a joke but I didn’t like it. And as much as I wanted to go home with him now, I didn’t like the way he was acting. I could feel myself starting to get an attitude, but I held off till I got in the house, to see what Debbie would say.
“What’s up?” I asked her, after I’d seen Brian get back in the jeep and I closed the front door behind me.
“Beats me,” Deb shrugged her shoulders, she was standing in the hallway waiting for me. “He just said he needed you tonight and would I bend my rules for once.” She snorted and tilted her head at me. “I bend my rules too much for you already.”
I was surprised. “He actually said he NEEDED ME?”
She shook her head. “Don’t read too much into that, Sunshine, okay?”
I heard her, I really did, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, and I turned to rush up the stairs and throw shoes and clean underwear into my bag, grab my sketchpad and my school uniform on its hanger, and rush back downstairs. Brian needed me! But I slowed to a walk as I went out the door and down the sidewalk, turned to wave casually at Deb outlined in the doorway; be cool, I reminded myself.
I got in and Brian grabbed my bag, threw it on the backseat, and I hung up the hanger on the hook behind my seat. He started the jeep but didn’t put it in gear, instead he looked at me again, still unsmiling, and said, “I didn’t ask if you WANTED to spend the night, I just assumed you did.”
Now I could smile. “You assumed right,” I assured him; he nodded and threw the car into gear and drove quickly through the dark streets. Tiny snowflakes had fallen on the backyard when we were outside after dinner, but now they had picked up speed and were a white blur whisked back and forth by the windshield wipers. I shivered and Brian reached out to turn up the heater.
“Tell me when you’re cold,” he snapped; he is always after me to express my needs, Brian can’t stand people who don’t speak up for themselves.
“Maybe I’m not cold, maybe I’m just excited.”
Immediately Brian flung out his arm and pinched my nose in his warm fingers; his hands are always warm.
“Cold,” he pronounced, without taking his eyes off the road.
I sighed and gave up. “Just a little,” I acknowledged. Then I had an idea and asked innocently, “My hands are freezing, can I put them in your lap to warm up?”
“Put ‘em in your pockets,” he answered curtly, but I could hear the smile in his voice, and I relaxed a bit. He needed me to cheer him up. Or anyway, he needed me in his bed. And I needed to be in his bed, too. So it was all right.
The loft was kind of drafty, he keeps it cool most of the time, but as soon as we came in the door he turned up the heat. I knew it was for my sake. I carried my bag up to the bedroom, assuming he was right behind me, but he wasn’t. I hung up my uniform, kicked off my shoes, and went down to the living room. He’d kicked off his own shoes, he loves his feet to be bare, and he was sitting on one end of the sofa with one knee drawn up to his chin, just staring into space. I came up behind him, crouched down and slid my arms around his neck, kissed the tip of his ear. “Can I sit on your lap?” I whispered.
“I need to talk to you,” he said, without looking at me. I was starting to get worried, but I acted nonchalant as I rounded the sofa and sat on the opposite end from him.
He swung his head sideways to look at me and said seriously, “I don’t want you to count on me.”
“For anything.” He bent his head and stared hard at me. “Got it?”
I shook my head, no. “I don’t know what you – “
He jumped up and began to pace; sitting still is something Brian is not good at. “I told you before, a long time ago: You’re the only one you need. You’re the only one you’ve got. Remember?”
Nodding, I answered quickly, “I know. Brian – “
“It’s still true. Don’t count on me, or on anybody else. Ever.”
Sure that my face reflected my confusion, I said, “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Tonight!” he almost yelled, then took a deep breath. “Tonight,” he repeated more quietly. “You said you had me to protect you. You don’t.”
“Oh.” My heart sank, remembering how I’d felt in the back yard with his arm around me. I’d felt safe. He didn’t want me to feel safe.
“I didn’t mean it LITERALLY,” I lied, “It was sort of a joke, you know?”
“You’re too trusting,” he went on, as if I hadn’t spoken. “You need to be more suspicious of people, question their motives.”
“You mean like the senator?”
“Everybody,” he answered comprehensively. “Remember that nobody does things without a reason.”
I shook my head. “Not everybody, Brian. Look at Deb, she’s letting me stay at her house, there’s nothing in it for her.”
“There’s always something in it for people. Maybe it makes Deb feel good to help you, maybe she likes having a young person around the house, you help with cleaning and she doesn’t worry so much about Vic being alone. And your mom’s giving her money, for your room and board.”
That made my face hot and I answered sharply, leaning forward on the sofa, hands balling into fists on my knees. “Deb’s not in it for the money! You know that’s not true!”
“All right.” He came over and sat beside me. “I know Deb’s not in it for the money. But do you think she could afford to let you live there for free?”
I turned my face away sharply. I hadn’t thought of that before. I knew Mom was helping out, but I never thought about Deb needing money, I never thought of myself being a financial burden on her. Suddenly I felt very shaky and I had to hug myself.
“Justin.” Brian’s voice was soft now, if I could look at his face, I knew it would have softened, too, but I couldn’t. “This is just reality I’m explaining to you. You need to face reality, get your head out of the clouds. That’s all I’m saying.”
I nodded. I could see he was right. I’m a man now, I have to act like one. Still I couldn’t look at him.
Brian slid closer and put his arms around me, but I couldn’t relax. “And Justin. . .” He sighed against my hair, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Justin, you can’t count on me to protect you. You need to understand that.”
“Okay,” I said, but no sound came out. I had to clear my throat, then I said more loudly, “Okay, Brian."
“Good,” he answered, pulling me tighter. “Good,” he repeated, as he bent his head and kissed my ear.
"Except," I couldn't help saying, "Except that, you always have."
He leaned away and finally I could look at him. "Always have what?" he asked.
"You always have protected me. Or anyway, you always have helped me, always." I tried to take his hand but he pulled away sharply.
"No," he said.
"But you have," I reminded him. "You protected me from my dad, you let me come and live with you, instead of being miserable at home."
Brian shook his head, "That was only - "
"And," I hurried on, "You came and rescued me from New York, after I was so careless with your alarm and you got robbed, and even after I stole your credit card!"
"That wasn't my idea -"
"Brian!" I jumped off the sofa to stand over him, "Brian, if you hadn't come after me, I would probably have become a junkie or a whore, or maybe even have DIED!"
Brian stood up too and grabbed my shoulders. "No, you wouldn't. Stop being such a drama princess!" He was frowning angrily but I couldn't stop.
I pulled away and paced around the living room, just like Brian does sometimes. I was all wound up and breathing fast, stumbling over my words. "And - and you helped me get a place to live, and you helped me get a - a job, and you wouldn't even let me pay you back for the credit card!"
"This is ridiculous, shut up, Justin." Brian was the one standing still for a change, and he folded his arms on his chest and glowered at me.
"And!" I was almost shouting now, "And just the other night, when Chris Hobbes showed up outside Woody's, you came right up beside me, you faced off with him! You almost punched him!"
"You didn't need my help," Brian reminded me calmly, and I nodded.
"I know. But if I did, you were right there to protect me." I walked over and tried to slip my arms around his waist but he grabbed my hands. "And - "
"Justin," he interrupted harshly, "Stop."
I could feel my whole body shaking, so I took a deep breath, then another, and made myself calm down. But I couldn't stop. "And that time I ran away from my mom, you even threw your trick out, so I could stay here. And - "
"Damn it, I said STOP!" Brian shouted, leaning over me, letting go my hands to grab my shoulders and shake them, hard. "Shut the fuck up!"
"Okay," I nodded. "But don't say you haven't been protecting me, all this time, because you have."
He shook his head. "None of that means anything, it means nothing."
"You don't want me to count on you, you don't want anybody to count on you. But you've always been there for me. Always. I just wanted to say that. That's all."
He shook his head. "You can't count on anybody, not ever. I can't protect you from anything. And I don't even want to. That's reality."
"Okay," I said. "Anyway, I don't need you to, any more. I'm a man now, and I can take care of myself."
We just stood there staring at each other. "Right," he said at last, then turned away, picked up a bottle from the liquor cart and carried it into the kitchen, pulled a glass off the shelf. I followed him into the kitchen but I knew better than to try and stop him, instead I pulled off a glass for myself and held it out to him. He raised his eyebrows at me, flashed his supercilious stare.
"I'm a man now," I repeated. "I don't need to be protected from liquor."
Brian laughed, a short sharp bark of a laugh, then set down his glass, the bottle, and took the glass from my hands, set it down on the counter. He roughly grabbed my shoulders and pulled me toward him, bent his head and kissed me hard on the mouth. "You're going to get fucked now," he murmured, "That's reality. Nothing can protect you from my cock."
"Yes, no," I whispered back at him, melting into his strong arms, "Yes."
If reality is being fucked by Brian Kinney, I don't ever want to be rescued.
I slipped my arms around him, my fingers scrabbling to get under his shirt and touch the velvet skin of his back, then I pulled away slightly from his embrace so I could get my eager hands on the buttons of his jeans. I could feel his slow smile before I looked up at him, he likes my eagerness, my excitement, and yes he's smiling, and he grabs me again and kisses me with that mouth, those lips, so hard yet so soft and so slippery and so hot and so wet. He lifts me an inch off the floor and shakes me, suddenly I'm reminded of our old terrier, Rippy, who used to grab his favorite bone in his mouth and shake it in the air. Brian is shaking me, I’m his bone, I'm his favorite bone, no matter what he says, I'm his favorite.
Then Brian is dragging me toward the steps, and I stiffen my legs and breathe, "Pull me," and he chuckles and pulls me by both arms across the polished wooden floor, my stocking feet slipping over the waxed surface like it's an ice rink, till we reach the stairs, when he lifts me up the three steps in one swoop of his strong arms and throws me onto the bed. I bounce up again immediately and grab for him, he lets me finish unbuttoning his jeans while he pulls off his shirt over his head, then we slip the jeans down his legs and he steps out of them, kicks them to the corner. Together we pull off my clothes and throw them away, then he's sliding onto the bed beside me and I'm so excited my cock is waving in the air like a signal flag. His cock is waving too, he's excited too, Brian wants me as much as I want him and it makes me delirious with joy to know how much he wants me.
"The duvet," I breathe, we forgot to pull off the duvet, and "Fuck the duvet," he says, as he spread-eagles himself on top of me against the dark blue fabric, and he murmurs, "Your skin is so pale," and I groan, "I know, it's awful," I'm always embarrassed by the milk-whiteness of my skin, but he says "No, no, it's beautiful, it's beautiful," and I feel the blood rush to my head, rush all over my body, turning my white skin pink with pleasure.
I strain to press my body up against his, our legs sliding together on the slippery duvet, his kisses are driving me wild, I'm going crazy trying to kiss him all over, grabbing his head, his shoulders, his hips. Sometimes this happens to me with Brian, sometimes I turn into a crazy wild animal raging with sex lust. Sometimes he calms me down, but sometimes he's right there with me, gasping and grabbing and rolling around roughly on the bed, his lips burning my skin, his rough fingers leaving red marks that will turn into bruises, sex bruises, imprinting his mark on me for days afterward.
This was one of those wild times, I can't even remember much of it, even just one day later, in my memory it's a blur of motion and moaning and gasping and cries of desire and pleasure and release. I remember the shout ripping out of my throat when I lost control and let loose an incredibly huge orgasm that left me gasping for air. I couldn't wait, I couldn't hold out and wait for him, but he didn't care, he stopped his gyrations to hang onto me so I wouldn't shake to death into a million tingling bits from the intensity of my violent orgasm, he held onto me till I could breathe again. And then I heard him laugh quietly, deep in his chest, laugh with pleasure that he had driven me so wild, wild with lust for him.
When I recovered and turned back from animal to human form, he started those burning kisses again, kissing and licking me from ears to collarbone, down my chest, over my nipples, lower and lower till his face was buried in my nest of dark blond hair and his tongue was doing amazingly hot wet things to my balls, in two minutes, three minutes, I was ready for him again, that fast. He turned me over and I knew what he wanted, I raised up my ass in the air for him, mostly he likes to fuck face to face, but sometimes he likes it this way and it's rare enough to be special and thrilling and amazingly exciting.
One time he carried the tall mirror that he keeps behind his desk into the bedroom and leaned it against the wall, so that I could see what we looked like, fucking that way in the dim blue light, our bodies translucently pale against the dark sheets and shiny with sweat, as he covered me from behind. I didn't mind being small then - well, I'm not small really but I'm not very tall, not as tall as Brian, and I loved the way his body covered mine, I loved watching him hold onto my hips and steady me to take his thrusts, to see the way he kissed my neck and my back the whole time, the way he twined his fingers with mine when I was ready to come. If I could have fallen more deeply in love with him than I already was, I would have done so, watching us in the mirror. He watched us in the mirror, too - did he see the same thing as me? Did he see how perfectly our bodies fit together as one? Did he see that we were truly meant to be together?
I closed my eyes and visualized the image of us as we had been reflected in that mirror, and gave myself up to the pleasure of Brian fucking me from behind, urging me with words and kisses on my neck and back till I was gone too far to come back. "Brian!" I breathed and he murmured, "Yes-yes, now!" I let go and he let go too, with a shout as loud as my own, and we collapsed and fell over sideways on the bed, breathing hard and hanging on to each other. Brian had timed his orgasm to match mine, he says that someday I'll be able to do that too. He says I'll learn to control myself better, but no hurry he says, he likes to see me lose myself in excitement. He actually told me that, isn't it amazing? Usually he's so cool, usually he covers up his feelings, but sometimes he lets me have a peek inside.
Barely conscious, I felt Brian gently arranging me on the bed, I heard the faint snap of the condom as he pulled it off, and my eyelids fluttered as I saw him lift the covers, which we'd kicked off the bed with our gyrations, he lifted the covers and pulled them over me, and over himself. He settled on his side next to me, and I felt his arm go round my waist and his head settle near mine on the pillow before I sank into a dreamless black abyss of sleep.
Of course Brian woke up in the middle of the night, he’s the most restless person I’ve ever known. I lay still for a while, he doesn’t like me to follow him around all the time, so I listened to see if I could figure out what he was up to. I managed to turn over silently in the bed and caught sight of him sitting at his computer. There were only a couple small lights on, one in the kitchen, one in the living room near the big windows, but I could see him at his desk, he’d put his black silk robe on, and light from the computer screen illuminated his face. He was frowning. Probably checking out the Pittsburgh M4M chatroom. Suddenly, without looking up, he said, “Go back to sleep.”
I was surprised and yet not surprised. As much as I am tuned in to Brian, he is tuned in to me. Not that he would admit it, but it’s true.
“I can’t sleep.” I sat up in bed and hugged my knees. “Come and talk to me.”
Brian sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his already-standing-up hair. He gets the most adorable bedhead and he’s totally unconscious of it. I thought he would swear at me, or make a funny remark, but he didn’t. He pushed back the chair, stood up and came to the bedroom, sat down beside me. He looked at me, his face serious but otherwise unreadable. “Have you decided about college yet?” he asked, totally out of the blue.
“Not a hundred percent.” His robe was gaping open and his beautiful chest was exposed, one tiny nipple peeking out over the edge-binding. He noticed my gaze and wrapped the robe more tightly around him. He wanted to be serious, but I didn’t want to. Not about college. I’ve been so confused and undecided about choosing a school, I needed more time to think about it.
“Is your dad going to pay?”
He’d hit on the nerve-center of my dilemma. If I go to Dartmouth or Brown, then Dad will pay, or anyway that’s what Mom says. But I don’t know if he’ll support me if I get into PIFA. I need to talk to Mom about it, maybe she can convince him. Only one person knows I applied to PIFA so far – it’s very competitive and super hard to get accepted, so there’s no point in making waves till I hear from them.
“I don’t know,” I answered at last. “Maybe.” I didn’t want to discuss my father with Brian. He thinks I should cut Dad loose, he doesn’t understand all the conflicted emotions I have about him. I’ve tried to explain but he won’t listen, he hates my father. It’s true that Dad’s been terrible since he found out I’m gay. But before that, he used to love me. Mom says he still does, to give him time to come around. I’m not sure he’ll ever come around, but I can’t cut him loose. Not yet anyway.
“Dartmouth is fucking expensive,” Brian said. “Lindsay says Penn State has a good art program.”
I nodded. Lindsay teaches art at Penn State here in Pittsburgh, she’d already told me the program is good. But Lindsay agrees that PIFA is better – Lindsay’s the only one who knows I’ve applied, she wrote a recommendation letter for me to submit with my portfolio. PIFA is what I want, they have a whole animation curriculum and studio intern programs.
Brian was busy re-tying the ties on his robe. He didn’t look at me as he said, “State has lots of scholarships and loans, too, in case your dad won’t pay.”
In the car the other day, Brian had been surprised when I told him I’d applied to out-of-state schools, and I’d called him on it. I said, “You really do care about me!” and he didn’t deny it. I saw it in his eyes. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. Yet he hadn’t talked about college since then, so I figured he hadn’t given it another thought. Now I couldn’t help asking, “Brian, do you want me to stay in Pittsburgh?”
“Why should I care?” he shrugged, throwing me a slightly bored glance. “Do what you want. I’m just saying you’ve got options.” He stood up and said, “Now go back to sleep. It’s the middle of the night.”
“I can’t. I’m hungry.”
He shook his head. “Is there any time you’re NOT hungry?” But he didn’t object when I followed him to the kitchen. “Cookies and milk,” he offered.
“Okay.” I got a glass and poured myself some milk and opened the drawer where he keeps cookies for me and Gus. Oreos and animal crackers. Brian decided to make coffee, which of course is one of the reasons he has insomnia so often. While he was grinding beans, I wandered over to his computer.
I already knew his cruising screen name so I didn’t expect him to mind, but he suddenly called out, “Get away from there!” I stopped and looked at him in surprise, he was already right behind me and reached over to hit the Escape button. But not before I’d seen the screen. It was Penn State’s homepage. Without looking at me he said gruffly, “Stop snooping,” and returned to the kitchen to continue making coffee.
“Sorry,” I said to his back, then wandered into the living room and sat down on the sofa. The nubby surface of the fabric rubbed my bare ass, but I didn’t have any halfway clothes to wear, no sweats or robe. Brian had given me a drawer to keep some emergency clothes in, but I hadn’t yet remembered to bring sweatpants. I was feeling kind of strange, thinking about Brian researching colleges on the internet for me. He didn’t join me in the living room; as soon as the coffee was started, he sat down at his computer again.
I finished my Oreos and milk, took the glass to the sink and rinsed it.
“Go to bed now,” Brian said, but I ignored him and walked to the desk, looked over his shoulder at the computer screen. He was in Pittsburgh M4M now, and I almost giggled when I realized that he was pretending to cruise the internet when he’d really been checking out colleges for me. Brian would rather be run over by his own jeep than be caught caring about people. Suddenly that stopped being funny. Suddenly it made me feel sad. I’m not sure what all Brian is afraid of, but I know he’s scared of love and commitment. Sometimes I’m so sure I can change him, but sometimes it seems totally hopeless. I could feel my shoulders droop, and I turned away and walked off to the bedroom.
As I reached the top step I heard Brian click off the computer, then he was right behind me. He rubbed my arms and shoulders and said, “You’re shivering, you need to keep a robe here.”
“I’m okay,” I said without turning around, then I slipped into bed. I couldn’t shake off my feeling of gloom, and I quickly pulled the covers over me so he wouldn’t see my sad face. I really do try to be poker-faced but I’m not very good at it; he’s told me before I’m transparent, and I didn’t want him to read the unhappiness that I was sure was reflected on my face at that moment. I hoped he would just get in bed so we could sleep, but I heard him flip on the switch for the blue neon lights before he climbed in behind me.
“Hey,” he murmured, slipping his arms around me and pulling me against him. God, I love the feeling of his body totally surrounding me. I felt his warm breath as he laid his head against mine on the pillow, and he began to kiss my hair and the back of my neck. I can never resist him. His left arm was under my head and he circled me with his right arm, using his fingers to feather-tickle-touch me from my neck down my chest, barely touching my nipples but making them go zing! In about three seconds I’d forgotten my sadness and was pushing back against him, wanting to feel every inch of his skin touching mine.
His hand slipped lower, caressing down my ribs to my stomach and barely touching my cock, skimming over it to slip his hand between my thighs and caress the skin there. He says the skin of my thighs is like silk, and his fingers rubbed me there like Gus rubs the satin on his baby blanket. Brian tightened his other arm, pulling till my back was tight against his chest, all the time kissing my hair and my cheek and snaking out his tongue to lick the rim of my ear.
I could feel the strength of the muscles in his long legs as he twisted them under and over my own, straining to cage me in an inescapable WWF leglock. I struggled, because he likes me to struggle, it makes him squeeze me tighter. He owns my body when we lie together like that, when I can’t breathe or move an inch, when I can’t escape if I tried. I don’t want to escape. I struggled a little more, because I like to feel helpless against his strength, then I let go, then I relaxed all the muscles in my body, and gave myself up to him totally.
He sighed exultantly and loosened his grip, he knew I would turn and thrust my whole body at him, throw my arms around his neck and squash myself against him. It was my turn for a stranglehold, and he rolled over on his back, let me climb on top of him and we lay flat out, face to face, chest to chest, cock to cock, thigh to thigh, toe to toe, every possible inch of skin touching and burning with almost unbearable desire. His head lolled back on the pillow and his eyes glittered at me, silently urging me on. I kissed him then, hard like he kisses me, and pulled his tongue into my mouth.
God, I wanted to fuck him in that moment, wanted to feel my cock plunge deep inside him. He knew it too, I saw it suddenly in his eyes, then he pulled his mouth away from mine and heaved his body upward, flipping me over onto my back, in one swift movement he was on top of me, using a knee to push my legs apart so he could crouch between them. My legs locked around his back, my fingers twisted desperately in his hair, and then he kissed me, he Kinney-kissed me, into shimmering blue oblivion.