The Party


 
 

“Come the fuck in!” Brian said, slightly inebriated. He had been drinking pretty steadily since he got home from work. He wasn’t really drunk. It took an awful lot to get him that way.

The three men who stood at the door walked into the loft looking around at the collection of about six other good looking men who were lounging around the space. A few were making out, but most were enjoying a drink.

“Should we take off our clothes?” one of the men asked.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Brian replied.

“Ooh, I think he’s going to rip them off us,” another man cooed.

“I can’t wait for another orgy at the infamous loft,” the third man gushed.

Brian smiled to himself. He wondered what they were going to say when he told them what was going to transpire. “Grab a drink from the bar cart and talk amongst yourselves,” Brian told them.

Quickly the men moved over towards the liquor, wondering why they weren’t already naked and getting fucked by the renowned stud of Liberty Avenue. News had gone through the gay grapevine like wildfire, since Brian let it be known that he was holding this shindig. Brian Kinney was having a final party, make that an orgy, before he took the plunge with his blond twink. The two were moving to some big estate just across the state line, at least that was the rumor. The infamous den of iniquity, commonly known as The Loft, was sold and about to be taken over by some lucky stiff who had paid a small fortune for it.

When he was sure everyone had had time to have a drink or two, Brian clapped his hands and shouted to get everyone’s attention. The men turned towards the handsome ad exec who stood regally at the top of the steps that led to his inner sanctum. No one had been allowed up there … yet.

All of the men attending this party had been in Brian’s bedroom once. Brian had let it be known that his one fuck only rule did not apply to this party. Any man he had fucked in his bed at the loft was invited to attend. That could have been thousands, but Brian was happy with the number of men who had shown it. It would do very nicely.

The men in attendance had returned to the loft for a second and final chance of being fucked by the notorious Kinney cock. They were all hoping for one last fuck before Kinney took himself off the market … permanently. They all knew that wouldn’t last long, but they weren’t going to waste this opportunity either.

“Gentlemen!” Brian began. “And I use that term loosely.” Many of the men grumbled and snorted at that comment. “Thank you all for coming here tonight to help me celebrate this last night in my loft. I will miss this place, but as they say, I’m moving on to bigger and better things.”

“Is Taylor’s cock that big?” someone shouted out.

Brian glared at the man. “I would advise you to keep comments like that to yourself, or you may find yourself bouncing unceremoniously down the loft stairs,” Brian threatened.

“Let’s just get this party started,” someone shouted.

“It already has,” Brian told him. “Hope you enjoyed the scotch.”

Several men shouted, “Cheers,” and emptied their glasses hoping the good liquor would be followed by even better sex.

“What are you planning, Kinney?” a man asked.

Brian thought the man looked slightly familiar, obviously someone that he had fucked before, but there were so many nameless faces and bodies that Brian could hardly be sure. “I have a very special treat in store for all of you.”

“A twelve man train?” someone asked counting the bodies currently sitting or lounging around the loft.

“Hm, that has possibilities,” Brian said. “But I have something else in mind.”

“You always had a good imagination, Kinney,” a man yelled out.

“Thanks,” Brian said with a grin. “Form a line just here in front of me and I’ll explain what’s about to happen.”

The men rushed to get in line, many jockeying to try to be first. A big man with rippling abs visible because his shirt was wide open, managed to shove the rest of the wannabe first place men behind him.

“Okay,” Brian said, glancing at the clock on the nightstand, as he reached behind the nearest moveable partition. He pulled his arm from behind the barrier revealing a large mallet in his hand.

“Whoa!” the first guy in line said taking a step back and tromping on the foot of the man behind him.

“What the fuck!”

“Have you gone psycho?”

“I don’t want any part of this,” one of the men near the end of the line said. He turned, ready to leave.

“Hold on!” Brian commanded. “Let me explain.”

“This better be good,” a couple of men griped.

“I asked you here tonight to help me end an era,” Brian explained. “We’re going to demolish the bed that I screwed you on.”

“What?”

“Are you nuts?”

“I came here for a fuck.”

“This is crazy.”

“If you don’t want to help me put an end to one part of my life … and get a little physical exercise while you’re at it…”

“I had another kind of physical exercise in mind,” the first guy in line stated.

“Me too,” another contributed.

“As I was saying,” Brian cut them off. “If you don’t want to take part in this, you’re free to leave. If, on the other hand, you’d like to be able to tell Liberty Avenue that you helped give Brian Kinney the send off of his life, then stick around and lend a hand. You get the first strike,” Brian said holding the mallet out towards the first man in the line.

The guy thought about it for a second, and then with a smile took the mallet. He walked up the steps and past Brian. He stared at the platform bed for a few seconds, remembering one of the best fucks of his life. “This is for the great fuck we had,” he said before swinging the mallet. It smashed through the middle of the wooden platform that would normally hold the mattress.

“Thanks,” Brian said taking the mallet.

“No … thank you.”

“Have another drink before you go.”

“I will.” The man walked down the steps on the other side of the bedroom.

The next man in line stepped up into the bedroom. “It’s a shame to destroy such a memorable piece of furniture.”

“Yeah, the new owner wanted it included in the sale, but I didn’t think that was wise.”

“Nobody will be able to live up to what you did in that bed, Kinney. It’s best to destroy it,” the man said taking a mighty swing. Pieces of wood flew around the room as the front section of the bed splintered and broke.

Brian nodded in acknowledgement, before handing the mallet to the next man. Each man had something to say about Brian and the bed. It was a fitting end to the infamous bed, and to the old way of life of the man known as the stud of Liberty Avenue.

As the final man in line swung the mallet, Justin Taylor walked into the loft. “What the fuck?” he cried as he heard the crack of splintering wood from the bedroom, and saw the men sitting around the loft. “Brian?” he called, worried that something terrible was happening.

“Up here,” Brian called.

Justin rushed across the loft. “What’s going on?” he asked in bewilderment as he came up the steps into the bedroom. The platform bed no longer had a platform. It lay in hundreds of pieces all over the floor.

“Hi, Sunshine, I’m celebrating our last might in the loft.”

“What the fuck have you been drinking … or snorting?” Justin asked eyeing Brian suspiciously.

“A little scotch,” Brian admitted, “but I’m not out of my mind.”

“It sure looks like you are.”

“Just a minute,” Brian said. He walked to the top of the steps. “Thank you all for coming,” he said with a smirk. “Time to leave.”

The men looked up and nodded at the man who had ruled Liberty Avenue for so long. Many gave Brian a final wave before they left the loft. A couple winked. Brian smiled and asked the last man out to pull the door closed behind him.

When they were alone Brian turned back to Justin. “Hello, Sunshine,” he said with a sheepish grin before giving Justin a toe curling kiss.

Justin took a deep breath when Brian finally released him. He stared into the hazel eyes. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“I decided I needed … closure … to my life here in the loft.”

“Closure? By pulverizing our bed?”

Brian nodded. “I saved a piece for you.” Brian pointed to a piece of the back part of the bed that hadn’t been smashed to smithereens.

“How sweet!” Justin replied, not at all sure what this was all about. “Where are we supposed to sleep on tonight? You’ve wrecked the bed.”

“You seem to be missing the point,” Brian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“If there is a point, and I can hardly believe there is, then I certainly have missed it.”

“Smashing the bed was a symbolic gesture,” Brian said trying not to sigh too loudly. His grand gesture seemed not to be understood by the only person that really mattered.

“I’m tired, Brian,” Justin said wearily. “I’ve been working all day at my studio. You said not to come home until midnight, and now it is, and look at what I find.” Justin gestured towards the few pieces of the bed that were still recognizable.

“I saved you a piece,” Brian repeated.

“Unless it’s big enough to sleep on, I’m not interested.”

“We have the mattress for sleeping,” Brian said pointing to the mattress that leaned against the wall.

“Surely you’re not taking it to Britin, now that the bed is demolished.”

“No, I’m fucking not! We’ll have a new mattress with our new bed.” Brian glared at Justin for several seconds. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Nothing! I guess I made a mistake,” Brian said dropping the mallet with a loud bang.

Justin jumped, and then it hit him, with the force of one of the mallet strokes. “You want me to smash that remaining piece of the bed, don’t you?”

Brian looked into Justin’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Justin asked with a soft smile. “I finally get it, Brian. I’m ready to do this. Are you?”

“That’s what tonight was all about,” Brian said slowly.

Justin picked up the mallet and swung it as hard as he could. The remaining piece of the bed shattered and nothing was left that could easily be identified as the loft bed.

“You understand?” Brian asked.

Justin nodded. “This part of our lives is over. Tomorrow we begin a new life at Britin.”

Brian pulled him close and cupped the back of his head with his hand. “I love you, Justin Taylor.”

“I love you, Brian Kinney, and thank you for … this.” Justin gestured to the pile of debris in the loft bedroom.

“I hired a couple of men to clean this up in the morning. We’re going to be busy tonight.”

“We are?” Justin asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“I have big plans.”

“Bigger than demolition?”

“Much bigger.”

“Do tell.”

Brian leaned closer and kissed Justin heartily. “It starts in the shower.”

“Mm, sounds good,” Justin purred.

“And then it continues on every surface in this place.”

“What about sleep?”

“We can do that in our new bed at Britin tomorrow night.”

“Okay.”

“Just okay?” Brian chuckled.

“It’s a great idea,” Justin amended. “Right behind this great idea.” Again he pointed to the remnants of the bed. “Did you smash some yourself?” Brian shook his head. “How come?”

“Because the tricks will miss that bed more than I will.”

Justin’s sunshine smile lit the path to the shower.
 

Feedback for Thyme

or email to thymewriter@gmail.com

Return to The Broken Bed Challenge