Sequel to MAKE A WISH
“Pick out the one you want, and I’ll get him for you.”
Justin shook his head. “Brian, you are so cocky. Maybe every guy wants you, but they don’t all want a three-way that includes me.”
Brian bent down and pressed his forehead to Justin’s, smiled slyly. “You’re the price of admission tonight. I’m worth the sacrifice.” He laughed at Justin’s annoyance. “Come on, make up your mind. This was your idea.” He lifted his vodka-rocks and emptied it in one swallow. They were standing on a second-floor platform at Babylon, leaning on the rail and studying the men below them rocking and writhing to the disco beat.
Justin knew that Brian didn’t think he’d go through with it. And he didn’t want to, not really. They’d talked about it a few times, always after Justin had tried to persuade Brian to teach him how to fuck. It was so unfair that Brian wouldn’t let him. It’s not as if Brian didn’t do it with other guys. He claimed he never did, but Justin knew differently. He’d overheard things from some guys at Babylon, and once Brian had left his computer open on his cruising screen name and Justin had found out, for sure.
Justin hadn’t been snooping; well, not really. But he’d been at the loft, studying for a test, and Brian had been fooling around on the computer; working, he’d said, but from time to time Brian had chuckled, which he sure never did while he was editing advertising copy. Then Brian's mom had called on the phone – that was the first time Justin had ever heard Brian talking to his mom, and he was just as curt with her as he was with everybody else – and she apparently needed his help with some papers or something. Brian didn’t explain, just said he had to go out for a while, and if Justin left, he’d better remember to set the alarm. Then Brian had grabbed his jacket and hurried off.
It had been at least ten minutes before Justin had worked up the nerve to approach the computer; and sure enough, Brian had forgotten to log off. Justin immediately committed Brian’s screen name to memory, then sat in Brian’s chair, and continued to behave very, very badly, breaking every rule of etiquette and good manners and morality by going into Brian’s e-mail and reading some of his messages.
Most of them were cryptic notes, asking for photos, giving the address of the loft; a few were more graphic and, reading one in particular, where Brian described the size and shape of a dildo and exactly what he planned to do with it, Justin felt the tips of his ears getting hot. That was a side of Brian he hadn’t seen, a crude, very rough and macho side that was barely recognizable as the same man that Justin knew. The man who talked tough and mean till he got Justin home in bed, when he became gentle and caressing and never pushed the limits of what he thought Justin was ready for. Even when Justin thought he wanted to do other things, Brian stopped him. Justin guessed he must still be pretty naïve, if he could be shocked by reading Brian’s e-mail.
Before Justin reached the end of his moral lapse, he read two messages that totally amazed him. Both were from a guy named UpYoursHard, a name which made him smile until he read the man’s coarse descriptions of how much he had enjoyed fucking Brian and what he’d like to do the next time they hooked up. Suddenly Justin had had enough; he exited the e-mail, left the computer screen exactly as he had found it, and moved back to the sofa, where he buried himself in calculus computations till his heart resumed its normal beating and until he heard Brian slide open the door to the loft. He looked up casually and said, “Hey,” then returned his eyes quickly to the textbook.
Brian said “Hey,” went up the steps and through the bedroom and then Justin heard him taking a long piss. He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle (from the clinking sound of it; Justin didn’t peek) and strolled over to his desk. Justin heard him inhale a sharp breath, mutter, “Oh, fuck!” and then he felt Brian’s eyes on him - but he was careful to stay focused on the book clutched on his lap. He head Brian click keys on the computer for a moment, then walk slowly into the living room, where he sat down in a chair directly opposite the sofa.
Closing his book, Justin stood up and stretched. “Aaaaaaaaagh,” he yawned, then shoved the book into his backpack by the coffee table.
“All finished?” asked Brian.
Justin made himself look at Brian. He was sure his face was blank and innocent. “Yeah,” he said, “All done. Wanna fool around?”
Tipping his beer bottle, Brian took a long drink, studying Justin. “Calculus homework get you all horny, did it?”
“I’m always horny,” Justin answered honestly.
Brian snorted. “I know. But it’s late, eleven thirty. I’ll give you a ride home. Deb’ll turn you into a pumpkin if you’re not home by midnight.” He stood up and led the way to the door.
"Can't we just - "
"Nope." Brian stood by the door, waiting while Justin shrugged on his jacket. He reached out and straightened Justin's collar, then slid open the door and waited for Justin to follow, before punching the buttons of his security alarm.
"Brian - "
Brian took a sip of his Absolut and gave Justin a warning glance over the rim of the glass. The gang was gathered around the upstairs bar at Babylon, discussing the backrooms of various bars on Liberty Avenue. Justin hadn't been in any backrooms yet, though he hoped the other guys didn't know that. He kept wishing Brian would drag him down there sometime, so he could see what it was like. Of course he could have gone on his own. He just hadn't ever been in the mood somehow.
"Brian - "
Brian said now, "Don't even think about it."
"Hunh," Justin was unimpressed. "You have no idea what I'm thinking about."
Brian scowled. “I always know EVERYTHING you’re thinking. I can read your mind.”
Justin snorted. “Then read THIS.” He put an image in his mind of Brian lying flat on his back on the bed, bathed in blue light, while Justin knelt between his long legs.
Brian raised his hand and placed a finger exactly in the middle of Justin’s forehead. “Why, you dirty scum-sucking pig,” he drawled, “Poor Emmett hates dildos, he would never let you do that.”
“That was NOT Emmett,” Justin corrected him, “And that was not a dildo.”
Brian smiled, put his arm around Justin’s shoulders and pulled him close, bent down his head and whispered in Justin’s ear, “Was it this?” as his other hand grabbed Justin’s jeans-covered cock and squeezed. Justin slid his arms around Brian’s waist and they kissed. He was vaguely aware of muttering sounds from the others and heard them moving away.
When Brian pulled back from the kiss, Justin whispered urgently, "Let's go to the backroom."
"No. And if you ask me again, you're not coming home with me tonight."
"Okay," Justin acquiesced quickly, turning away to hide his smile. He hadn't known he was going home with Brian. He never knew for sure. Even if Brian danced with him, kissed him, rubbed against him till he was sweating and ready to pop, that was still no guarantee of a ride in Brian's fuckmobile to the loft on Tremont.
The music flowed into a new song, or rather, an old song, a really old disco song, and Brian grabbed Justin's hand and rushed him down the stairs to the dance floor. Justin eagerly joined Brian in writhing to the disco beat. Brian loved to dance, which was amazing really, considering that he'd been doing it for like twenty years almost and still wasn't very good. Not that he would ever tell Brian that.
Justin was disappointed to see Brian pop something into his mouth, a small white pill, probably E. He much preferred Brian without drugs, but he'd take him any way he could get him. Justin was glad his allergies prevented him from trying all the chemicals that flowed so freely at the dance clubs. He'd seen people pass out, vomit on themselves, or end up in comas, like poor Ted had done. And sometimes he got slightly nervous, riding in the jeep with a wasted Brian at the wheel. Usually Brian got Michael to drive if he was far gone, but not always.
But Justin knew better than to discuss drugs with Brian. Still, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the opening Brian's pill-popping had created. He put his arms around Brian's waist, pushing his hips forward and grinding Brian's pelvis. "Maybe if you take a couple more of those things, I'll get to do you after all, and you won't even notice."
Immediately Brian stopped dancing and pulled away, stood back from Justin. His eyes were steely as they searched Justin's face for - for what? Censure? Criticism? Apparently he didn't see what he was looking for, because Brian took a deep breath and relaxed again. In fact, he even laughed. "That wouldn't say much about your technique, now would it? If I didn't even notice what you were doing?"
Justin smiled but didn't laugh. "I don't have any technique," he replied, his voice taking on a slightly bitter edge. "You won't let me - "
"Stop!" Brian shook his head, ground his teeth. "You're not going to start that again."
Afraid he'd gone too far, Justin said nothing. Then Brian grabbed his hand and led him upstairs to the second floor bar, got himself another vodka and a bottle of beer for Justin, then once again took Justin's hand and led him onto a platform looking out over the crowd dancing below.
"Okay," Brian said, "Take your pick." He spread his arm in a gesture taking in the entire dance floor of Babylon below them. "Pick one, and we'll take him back to the loft."
Studying Brian's face to see if he was joking, Justin was shocked to see that he was not. Brian was serious. Justin looked away, out over the crowd, and swallowed the lump rising in his throat. It was going to happen, it was really going to happen tonight. All the nagging he'd done the past couple weeks was paying off. Brian was going to teach him how to fuck somebody tonight. He should be thrilled. He should be excited. He was a gay man and three-ways were a normal gay thing, and he had to start doing it sometime. Right?
"There's a hot one," Brian pointed at a dark-haired muscular guy, bare-chested, wearing skin-tight jeans, swiveling his body on the dance floor below.
"He's too big," Justin said. "He's too macho. He's probably a top."
With a laugh Brian exclaimed, "Most of those muscle boys are nelly bottoms. Stick a finger up their ass and they start crying for their mama."
They were silent for a moment, then Brian pointed at a slim young man with buzz-cut blond hair, wearing a sleeveless silver tee and matching shorts.
"He's too skinny. And I don't like his hair."
Then Brian pointed at a short, dark-haired guy with a close-trimmed goatee, in cargo pants and a blue pullover shirt.
"I don’t like beards," Justin shook his head.
Justin could feel Brian staring at him but he pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure that if he looked at Brian's face, he would see a smirking smile.
After a few moments, Brian pointed at another man, tall, slim and dark-haired, in snug jeans and an unbuttoned shiny blue shirt. He was good-looking, Justin noticed; he was kind of hot, actually. He was dancing alone, eyes closed, swaying to the music.
"How about him?"
Justin hesitated. "He's a lousy dancer," was all he could come up with, and Brian laughed out loud.
"You're not going to dance with him, you're going to fuck the shit out of him." Brian hesitated, then asked, "Shall I go get him?"
Annoyed, Justin threw a derisive glance at Brian and said, "You're so confident, aren't you? Hasn't anybody ever turned you down?"
Justin felt sure that must be a lie, but he also knew that Brian really could have just about anybody he desired. At that moment Justin wanted, more than anything, to call the whole thing off, but he didn't know how to do that without looking stupid. He glanced up hesitantly at Brian, who was grinning, and he waited just a moment too long, because Brian abruptly turned away and moved across the platform and down the stairs. Justin watched him go, swallowing convulsively, then turned to look over the railing at the dance floor.
Brian approached the dark-haired guy, who stopped dancing, and even from one flight up, Justin could see a slow smile spread across the guy's face as Brian murmured into his ear. Immediately the guy looked up, and Justin's heart jerked in his chest as he realized what Brian was telling him. Justin stared wide-eyed across the distance, then suddenly the guy waved at him, and automatically Justin raised his hand to wave back. Brian gestured for Justin to come downstairs to join them, and Justin thought, "Oh, shit."
When Brian gestured a second time, more urgently, Justin nodded and turned from the rail, making his way slowly, as slowly as possible, down the stairs. He was hoping to get lost in the crowd but it seemed to part for him, as if he were Moses and this was the Red Sea, and he moved forward across the dance floor toward his destiny.
They were in the jeep headed north. The guy’s name was Ross; Justin had asked. Brian didn’t need to know guys’ names, but Justin wanted to remember his first fuck and not always refer to him as ‘that dark-haired guy.’ Ross was in the back, leaning over the edge of the front seats, trying to get Justin to talk. He’d also tried to get Justin to sit in back with him, but Brian had sharply told him no. Brian said he needed Justin to ride shotgun, to watch for cops, since Brian had dropped a couple E. Ross said he liked E too, but Brian didn’t offer him any, though Justin had seeb the clear baggie Brian had fished from his pocket earlier, and he had several of the small white pills.
“You a college boy?” Ross asked, tickling the back of Justin’s neck.
Before Justin could answer, Brian turned up the volume on the tape player. He and Brian started singing along with Garbage, and Ross tried to join in, but he didn’t know most of the words. Brian parked in his garage and they piled out; Justin ran ahead and punched in the security code and held open the door for the others. They rode up the elevator in silence, and when Brian opened his loft door, Ross whistled. “Wow, cool digs,” he said. “You guys live together?”
“No,” Justin answered. “Do you want a beer?”
Ross laughed. “I’m buzzed enough already.” He pulled off his jacket, threw it on the sofa; his shirt followed and then he kicked off his shoes.
Justin was aware that Brian was also pulling off his clothes, yet he stood motionless as a statue in the middle of the loft. Brian came up behind and hugged him briefly, whispered “You’re okay,” in his ear, then lifted Justin’s sweater off over his head. With shaking hands, Justin unfastened his cargo pants and stepped out of them. He was the only one of the three wearing underwear. He bent to pull off his shoes and socks, then Brian grabbed his hand and led him up the steps. The men were both naked and Justin felt goosebumps pop up all over his body.
Ross approached Brian and tried to slip an arm around his neck, but Brian pulled back slightly. “Justin’s first,” he said, so Ross turned and smiled. He approached Justin and reached for his cock – still protected by a layer of superfine cotton. Unconsciously Justin started backing up, until he felt himself back into Brian. Brian slipped his arms around Justin’s waist and whispered, “It’s okay.”
Brian held onto him as Ross came near. Ross put a hand on the back of Justin’s neck and bent his head, started to put his mouth on Justin’s, Justin could feel the man’s warm, beer-scented breath on his lips, before Brian took a step backward, pulling Justin with him. “No kissing,” he said flatly.
“No kissing?” Ross laughed, but stopped when he looked at Brian’s face. “Okay.” He closed the distance between them and reached out both hands to caress Justin’s nipples. He bent his head and began to lick Justin, from his neck down his chest, and stopped to run his tongue over Justin’s nipple ring, and bit down on it.
Justin gasped slightly, Brian was usually so gentle with the ring that he was surprised at the mild pain sensation. “Stop that,” Brian hissed, “Don’t bite it.”
Ross raised his eyes to Brian’s face again. “Okay,” he agreed. He bent his head and continued his tongue’s journey south. Ross knelt on the floor, hanging on to Justin’s hips, and slowly pulled Justin’s white cotton briefs down to his ankles, then shoved his whole face into Justin’s crotch, and Justin gasped.
“Stop,” said Brian.
“Now what?” Ross was frowning. “Tell me the rules up front, okay? Stop interrupting.”
Brian hesitated, then said, “Let Justin do you, instead.”
Ross rolled his eyes but nodded. He sat on the ledge at the foot of the bed and looked at Justin, who hadn’t moved. Ross spread his hands open and said, with a slight edge to his voice, “Well, come on, kid, let’s get started, huh?”
Justin felt Brian pushing him gently forward, then felt Brian’s hands on his shoulders, encouraging him to kneel down between Ross’ open legs. Justin gazed at the man’s cock, which was not as big as Brian’s or his own, but was nothing to sneeze at.
Thinking that thought, Justin suddenly let go a ferocious sneeze and slapped a hand over his mouth. “I need a tissue,” he mumbled through his fingers. Brian reached over to the bedside table, pulled off two tissues and handed them to him. He wiped his face and blew his nose and then threw the dirty tissues over his shoulder.
“Oh, that was nice,” Brian sniped.
“I’ll pick them up later.”
Ross reached out his hands and began to caress Justin’s neck, pulling him slightly forward. “Come on, baby,” he murmured encouragingly, “Come suck daddy’s dick.”
“Daddy?” Justin demanded, annoyed. “How old are you?”
“It’s just an expression,” Ross explained patiently. “And I’m twenty-five, if it matters.”
“Well, I’m twenty,” Justin declared, giving himself a couple years, “So you can’t be my daddy.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus,” Ross huffed angrily. “Just suck my dick, huh?”
“Don’t tell him what to do,” Brian interrupted. “Just shut up and let him go at his own pace.”
“Shut up?” Ross got to this feet. “Who you telling to shut up?”
“You!” Brian answered, giving the man a push backwards. Ross’ knees hit the edge of the ledge and he fell over onto the bed on his back. Brian reached over and grabbed his arm, dragged him upright again. “If you wanna get fucked, then behave yourself!” Brian’s face was grim, his eyes glaring.
Justin stared at Brian in amazement, he’d never seen him so belligerent before.
“Fuck you!” Ross exclaimed, pulling himself from Brian’s grip. “Fuck both of you! I’m outta here.” Stomping down the steps, Ross pulled on his jeans, stepped into his shoes and grabbed his shirt and jacket. Justin and Brian stood frozen in place, watching him. At the door, Ross turned to shout at them, “Couple of fuckin’ weirdos!” and slammed open the door, pounding down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.
There was dead silence for a moment, then Justin looked up at Brian and they stared at each other with open mouths. Then suddenly they burst out laughing. Brian pulled Justin up off the floor and they fell into each other’s arms, whooping and laughing. They sat down on the ledge of the bed and caught their breath.
Justin sighed. “Guess I won’t get to learn fucking tonight.”
“Sure you will,” Brian said bracingly. “Get dressed, we’ll go back to Babylon and find another one.”
Justin whipped his head around to stare at Brian in amazement, and Brian burst out laughing again. He was joking.
Justin smiled but then said seriously. “I don’t want to do this again, okay?”
“Oh, all right,” Brian agreed with a heavy sigh, belied by the grin still playing around the corners of his mouth. He turned sideways and put his arms around Justin, pulled him close. “What do you want to do now?”
“Now?” Justin asked, then hesitated a moment. Finally he said staunchly, “Now I want to suck daddy’s dick!”
Brian bent his head and kissed Justin’s lips. “I’m not old enough to be your daddy,” he whispered. “But you can suck my dick, anyway.”