Fucking
Pittsburgh
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Pittburgh. Fucking Pittsburgh. Brian looked out his office window. Winter in fucking Pittsburgh was even more fucking depressing than the rest of the fucking year.
"It should be me in New York," he thought, "not Justin."
He bit off that thought, realizing how selfish it was and how pathetic. Christ, he was a mess. He was jealous of a teenager and fed up with his piss hole of a life. He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't accomplish anything, he didn't enjoy anything. Justin had been gone for four days and he was falling apart.
Justin had called as soon as he got settled in his dorm at NYU. He was bubbling with excitement. He had gotten his schedule and was eager to get started. They were going to have lectures for the first four days – a lot of orientation, explanation and demonstration. Each night they were scheduled for a museum visit with one of the instructors. Brian had talked to Justin only once since his first call.
That call came the second night of his absence. Brian's cell rang at two am. Brian was at Babylon with the boys. They had insisted he come along, hoping to take his mind off Justin's absence. Brian had expected Justin to call by midnight, but when no call came, he began to drink more heavily and sought out his disco pharmacologist.
When his cell phone rang around two, he was pretty well wasted, and in no mood for small talk.
"Yeah," he answered belligerently.
"Hi, Brian," Justin replied. "Are you at Babylon?"
"So?"
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing!"
"Why are you being like this?"
"Like what?"
"Look, do you want to talk to me or not?"
"You talk, I'll listen."
"All … right."
"So talk!"
"What's going on?" Justin asked, bewildered by Brian's attitude.
"Nothing. I'm having a fucking fabulous time!"
"Are you wasted?"
"Do I sound like I am?"
"Yeah."
"Then I guess I am."
"Brian, what's wrong? Talk to me."
Brian took a breath. "Where the fuck have you been? I've been waiting for you to call for hours."
"We went to the Museum of Modern Art. It was great. I saw a whole bunch of paintings I've seen in my art books. There were some great exhibits. It was really inspiring. I got some really cool ideas of things I want to try when we start our studio work next week."
"That's just peachy!"
"Brian …?"
"What?"
"I don't understand what's wrong. Have I done something?"
"Since when are museums open after midnight?"
"Oh … so that's it. You're mad that I'm calling so late?"
There was no reply. Brian fumed in silence.
"The museum closed at ten. We went out for a bite and a drink. I'm getting to know some of the other students, and we talked for ages."
"How lovely for you!"
"I'm sorry I called late, but I told you I couldn't give you a specific time. Everything's kind of random right now."
"Random? That's a fucking euphemism!"
"What do you mean?"
"Mr. 1500 SAT's! You should know what euphemism means."
"I do. I just don't understand why you think I used the word random as a euphemism."
"Are you dense or what?"
"I'm … I'm going to hang up now. You obviously don't want to talk. You're trying to pick a fight."
"Took you long enough to figure that out!"
"Bye, Brian. Call me when you actually want to talk."
"Sure."
The line went dead. Brian looked at the phone, then clicked it off. "Fuck!" he said out loud.
"Anytime," a ripped young man with smoky eyes replied.
Brian met his gaze. "Why not?" Brian thought. He fished another E from his pocket and popped it. The young man still stared at him, so he moved in. A whisper in his ear, a grope of his apparently well endowed package and they headed out. The guy had a car, and Brian agreed to go to his place. That suited him fine, better than the backroom. Not seeing his friends nearby, he just left.
On the drive to the trick’s apartment Brian popped another pill. Something told him he shouldn’t, but at that point he didn’t care. He remembered that they got each other off immediately. The guy wasn’t bad. Then Brian had fucked him within an inch of his life. After that things were kind of hazy.
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Brian’s eyes scanned the buildings near his office, looking for inspiration or at least distraction. Nothing caught his attention and his thoughts drifted back to the morning after his little fuckerama.
He awoke to daylight in a bed in a strange apartment with some guy he didn’t recognize. "Not the first time," he thought. He looked around for a clock and saw one on a dresser. 7:45 stared back at him.
"Shit!" he said aloud. He was usually at work by now. He sat up abruptly, and pain shot through his head. What the fuck had he taken last night? He rubbed his fingers around his temples and tried to focus. He needed to get out of there. Where were his clothes?
A look around the bedroom showed him his jeans and a sock. The trick was still asleep, so he eased himself out of the bed. He grabbed what clothes he saw, and just about passed out with the stab of pain as he bent over to pick them up. As quietly as he could, he closed the bedroom door behind him. The rest of his clothes were scattered around, but he found the necessaries and put them on. He needed to get home to change for work. He could do that without underwear and one sock. At least he had shoes and his leather jacket.
"Car keys," he said aloud. He found them in his jacket pocket along with his cell phone and several pills. "Christ, I am so fucked!" he muttered to himself.
He quietly let himself out of the apartment and rode the elevator down to the street. Suddenly it dawned on him that the trick had driven them there last night. His Jeep must still be at Babylon. He needed a taxi. He looked around for street names. He had a cab company programmed into his cell phone for just such occasions. He pushed nine, the number for the taxi service. They would be there in ten minutes.
He decided he better call Cynthia and explain his lateness. He thought for a minute, trying to come up with a good story. His brain wasn't its usual steel trap this morning. "No wonder," he thought. "I must have been really wasted."
He called Cynthia, prepared to take his medicine.
"What's up?" she asked, wondering why he wasn't already at the office.
"I'm going to be late," he said quietly.
"You already are."
"Bitch," he retorted.
Cynthia smiled. "You sound a little rough. Where are you?"
"Never mind that."
"Well, what do you want me to do?" she asked.
"Do I have any meetings or appointments before ten?"
"Nothing pressing. You were
going to brainstorm with Kevin at nine, but we can put that off."
"Good," said Brian. "Do it."
"Brain not up to storming this morning?"
He groaned. He knew she had figured out at least part of what was going on.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"No."
"When should I expect you?"
"I'll be there by ten."
"Ta ta," she said cheerily.
"Fuck you," he groaned as he hung up. She was too smart for her own good, but he knew he would never survive without her.
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Brian left the windows of his office and dropped into the chair behind his desk. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
He had managed to get to work by 9:30. After finishing his conversation with the snarky Cynthia, the taxi had taken him to his Jeep, still parked near Babylon. From there he drove to the loft. A long shower and a short shave, and he looked and felt better. He would be able to face the rest of the day despite the pain in his head.
When he had arrived at the office, Cynthia was sitting smugly at her desk. She gave him the once over.
"What?" he said.
"Pretty good transformation," she acknowledged.
"How do you know?"
"From the sound of your voice on the phone, you were in rough shape."
"I'm here now, so what do I need to do?" he cut her off.
"Nothing, till ten. Then you have a meeting with Shulman Shoes. They have a new product they want pitched."
"I hope it's better than that last fucking ugly shoe," Brian griped, remembering the Kip Thomas connection. He grimaced.
"Are you up to this?" Cynthia asked, seeing the look on his face.
"I'm fine."
"Did something happen with Justin?" she had to ask.
"What makes you ask that?" he said, being deliberately obtuse.
"You haven't done this for a long time. And Justin's gone, so I wondered if that's what set you off."
"I'm not talking about this. I don't want to be interrupted until the Shulman people get here. Understand?"
"Of course."
He turned abruptly and went into his office, closing the door behind him. He had known he would catch shit from Cynthia and she hadn't let him down. He sat at his desk, rubbing his temples again.
He had checked the messages at the loft, and Justin had not called him again, either on his cell or his loft phone. There were six messages from Michael. He had called four times after Brian had left Babylon, wanting to know if Brian was all right and where he had gone. There were two calls to the loft in the morning, when Brian was still at the trick's.
He decided he better call Michael, before he started calling the office, and raising more speculation with Cynthia. He dialed the comic book store and Michael answered.
"Hey," Brian said, "I got your messages."
"What happened to you? Where did you go?"
"Where do you think?"
"You didn't. Brian, how could you? Justin's only been gone a couple of days."
Brian felt a wave of nausea pass through him. Michael was right. How could he have done this?
When Brian didn't answer, Michael said, "Did he call you at Babylon?"
"Yeah, finally."
"What does that mean?'
"I talked to him just before I left."
"That must have been around two o'clock. What did he say?"
"He had just gotten back to his dorm from the museum trip."
"What museum is open till two a.m.?"
"Funny. That's what I wanted to know."
"What did he say?"
"They went to eat after the museum. They were talking."
"You believe him, don't you?"
Brian scowled. "How the fuck am I supposed to know what to believe?"
"Brian, he loves you. He wouldn't do anything."
"But I would. I don't do long distance …"
"Relationships?" Michael completed his sentence.
"Yeah."
"Have you talked to him since?"
"No."
"Have you tried?"
"He told me to call when I wanted to talk."
"And you don't want to talk?"
"Not yet."
"You should talk."
"I'll be sure to add that to my 'To Do' list."
"Don't be sarcastic, Brian."
"Well, what the Hell am I going to say to him? You pissed me off, so I fucked another guy."
"Brian, don't fuck it up."
"Thanks for the helpful advice."
"I mean it."
"I know. Bye,
Mikey." He hung up before Michael
could tell him what else to do with his fucking life.
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Brian sat up in his chair. He needed to get ready for the second meeting with the Shulman Shoes people. He should stop rehashing the past. If only he could!
It was now two days since he had last talked to Justin. The young man had made no attempt to contact him since Babylon. He obviously meant it when he said Brian should call him when he was ready to talk. Justin wasn't going to take the initiative.
He wondered if he should call the boy, but what could he possibly say? He would have to lie or risk losing him. He had lasted two fucking days before he tricked. How could he explain that to Justin or to anyone else for that matter?
Justin had given him permission to trick while he was gone. Permission! Brian, however, had resolved not to trick. He wanted only Justin. That resolve had lasted two fucking days! Justin obviously knew him better then he knew himself. The boy had told him as much several times. Justin had said that Brian didn't need to tell him about his tricks, so he really didn't have to say anything. The only problem was that Justin would know as soon as he talked to Brian. That's why he hadn't called. In one respect he didn't care if Justin knew about the trick, because the trick, like all the rest, meant nothing to him. He knew Justin would be disappointed, but what he didn't want Justin to know was how weak he was, how his resolve was good for only two days, how he had let Justin and himself down.
Cynthia tapped on his door.
"Enter," he said.
"The Shulman people are in the conference room."
"I'll be right there."
"Are you up to this?"
"Of course. What do you mean?"
"You haven't been yourself the last few days."
"I know, but I'm fine."
"Right. Let's go."
"Give me a minute alone?" Brian requested.
"Sure." Cynthia gave him a look and left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Brian hoped he was fine. He had been having so much trouble concentrating. His mind kept wandering to the past and to what he had done to Justin. He had to get through this meeting.
He swallowed hard, took a drink of water and headed for the conference room. He was about to find out if he could still do his job. He sure hoped so.
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Brian brought the take-out to the counter of the loft. He dumped some onto a plate and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He had gotten through the Shulman meeting, not great but passable. He needed to get his act together and come up with some good ideas.
What he really needed to do was talk to Justin. He couldn't focus on anything because he was always thinking or worrying about the boy.
He picked at his food and mulled over his options. He could do nothing and wait for Justin to call. That would get him nowhere. He didn't think Justin was going to give in and call. He could call and not mention the trick, act like nothing bad had happened. That might work, but Justin would hear it in his voice, and their relationship was supposed to be based on truth. He could fess up and take the consequences, as Debbie would say. This was what he should do, but could he do it?
He took a bite of the food and chewed slowly. He didn't feel like eating. He didn't feel like doing anything, but he knew he had to.
He picked up the phone and hit the number for Justin's cell. It rang several times and then went to voicemail. He must be in another museum, Brian thought. He decided to leave a message.
"Justin, it's me, your fucked up partner. I'm ready to talk. Call me as soon as you can."
He hoped that sounded all right. He had deliberately used the word 'partner' and had alluded to his fuck up. He hoped Justin understood, but also would read between the lines. All he could do now was wait and hope that he called.
As time passed, Brian began to get more and more worried. Maybe Justin was really mad at him because he had taken so long to call. Should he call again? Leave a bunch of messages? He didn't want to seem too needy, but that was how he felt.
As midnight approached, Brian was sure he was going to jump out of his skin. Where was Justin? Was he going to call? Brian had another beer and flopped on the couch. He stared at the ceiling of the loft counting the rafters, the knots in the wood, the number of rivets in the metal columns. He was going out of his fucking mind.
When the phone rang just after midnight, he jumped and couldn't fathom what it was for a moment. Then he grabbed the receiver and said, "Hello."
"Brian," Justin replied.
"Hey. I've been waiting for your call."
"You want to talk?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'm listening."
"Where have you been?"
"We went to the Frick tonight."
"What the fuck's a Frick?"
"It's an old mansion in the middle of Manhattan. It's now a museum. It was the home of a man named Frick who collected the most amazing pieces of art. Each room is full of masterpieces."
"Sounds impressive," Brian conceded.
"It was."
"You're really enjoying this experience, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. It's been great, and there's so much more to come."
"I'm glad."
"Thanks, but you haven't talked about yourself."
"I'm avoiding it."
"Why?" Justin asked, but he thought he already knew.
"I was at Babylon when you called before."
"I figured that out."
"You made me worried when you were so late calling."
"I'm sorry about that, but I couldn't just leave. I'm going to be with these people for five months, so I need to get to know them."
"I understand."
"Then what's the problem?"
"I miss you."
"I miss you too," Justin replied, softening to Brian's admission.
"You didn't sound like it the other night," Brian accused.
"You didn't give me much of a chance."
"I guess that's true, but I want you so bad."
Justin smiled. "Me too."
"Tomorrow's Friday. I was thinking I could catch a flight right after work, and we could spend the weekend together."
"Oh …"
"Don't let your enthusiasm sweep you away," Brian sniped. He had expected Justin to gush and jump at the chance.
"There's a bit of a problem with that plan," Justin said hesitantly.
"What?" Brian was annoyed.
"We're doing another museum Friday night. It's part of the curriculum and I have to go."
"I could get a later flight, and we could meet after the museum."
"I guess, but there's something else."
Brian was getting really ticked.
"Tell me!" he barked.
"When you didn't call, I arranged to go to the Statue of Liberty with some other students, and then to see a Broadway show on Saturday night. I've already paid for it."
"Cancel! I'll reimburse you," Brian ordered. He wanted to tell Justin how much he needed to be with him, but it all came out as anger and frustration.
"Don't order me around. I think next weekend would work better," Justin countered.
"Well, it may not be better for me."
"Brian, try to understand."
"I'm beginning to."
"What do you mean?"
"It's apparent that you have a new set of priorities, and I'm somewhere below the fucking Guggenheim on that list."
"That's not true. Things'll settle down next week," Justin tried to assure him.
"Sure."
"Brian, don't be like that."
"Why don't you call me when you're ready to spend some time with me?" Brian handed Justin's ultimatum back to him. When there was no immediate response from the boy, Brian hung up in annoyance.
Justin stared at his phone, not believing that Brian had hung up on him. He debated calling back, but knew that would mean a fight with Brian in his present frame of mind.
Brian threw the phone across the loft. It bounced off the wall and clattered to the hardwood below. He imagined it shattering into little pieces like his heart, but it spun about on the floor, seemingly intact. He closed his eyes and screamed "Fuck!!" at the top of his lungs.
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It was Saturday night at Babylon. Gyrating bodies, pounding music and the smell of sex bombarded Brian's senses as he leaned on the catwalk railing. He was pleasantly high, just enough alcohol and E, a good combo. His eyes drifted over the dancers, looking for a likely prospect.
He noticed a blond boy dancing wildly below him. He thought of Justin, but immediately pushed that thought aside, and headed down the stairs. The blond was probably twenty, but as Brian got a closer look, he realized he might be even younger.
"Too much like someone else," Brian thought, and turned away.
The blond had already noted Brian's interest, and grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving. "Want to dance?" the kid asked, apparently in his most suggestive and flirtatious manner.
Brian looked at him and realized the kid was really flying, higher than a kite. "No," Brian said and turned away.
The blond grabbed his arm again. "You're Brian Kinney, aren't you?" he asked.
"Yeah. So what?"
"I've heard about you. What a great fuck you are!"
Brian stared at him.
"Want to do me?" the blond asked.
"No thanks." Again Brian turned to leave.
"Hey!" The kid grabbed his arm again. "What's up? I'm offering."
"I'm refusing."
"Well, fuck you!" the blond yelled, his loud voice drawing attention to their discussion.
"Not in this lifetime!" Brian shot back, as he finally got away from this annoying kid. What was it with persistent blonds? He heard some other obscenities being hurled at him, but he kept walking.
He realized he didn't want to be at Babylon, he didn't want to dance, he didn't really want to drink or drug, and he sure as shit didn't want that blond kid. What he wanted was another blond who was several hundred miles away. That fucking kid in Babylon had ruined his nice high and screwed up his plans for the evening. He grabbed his coat and headed for the Jeep.
He started the engine and was about to put the car in gear, when he realized he had nowhere to go. It was after midnight, and he didn't want to go home … alone. He could go back inside. Ted and Emmett were still there, but they were a couple. He used to be part of a couple. 'Used to be' were the words he had thought. Past Tense. That frightened him. Had things really deteriorated to the point where he and Justin were in the past tense? He leaned his head on the steering wheel, wondering if Justin would ever call him.
He sat that way for a few minutes, when he heard a tapping sound. He looked up to see the blond kid from inside staring at him through the side window of the Jeep. He groaned and gave the kid the finger. The boy merely smiled and tapped again. Brian rolled down the window.
"What the fuck do you want?" he asked.
"A good time," the kid replied.
"Then go find some more drugs and a trick to fuck!"
"I want to fuck you and so does my friend," the blond said. He pulled a taller dark haired young man into view.
"I told you no," Brian said.
"Hey, we're both willing to go with you. I want to try a Brian Kinney fuck, even though you pissed me off inside."
Brian stared at him. He was a persistent little fuck, and his silent friend wasn't hard to look at. A three-way would be one possibility of getting through this Saturday night.
"Get in," he said.
The blond smiled at him. He was kind of cute. His friend gave Brian a weak smile. He didn't look too sure about this. The two men climbed into the Jeep and Brian headed for the loft. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. Maybe a mindless fuck would clear some of the pent up frustration inside him. If something didn't happen soon, he was going to put his fist through a wall.
No words were spoken on the trip to the loft. Brian didn't want to know their names or anything else about them. He just wanted to fuck them and get rid of them. He hoped the fuck would be worth it.
Brian unlocked the door to the loft. The two men walked in, looking around in awe of Brian's home.
"Great place," the blond said.
"Yeah." Brian responded.
The dark man hung silently by the door. The blond had moved over by the coffee table, picking up and looking at everything there.
"Don't touch stuff," Brian ordered.
"Sorry," the kid said.
"Get naked, both of you!" Brian commanded. He headed to the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and downed half of it. When he turned around, the two men were naked and kissing by the couch. Their groins rubbed together, their erections evident between them. Brian watched for a minute. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Hey," Brian said.
They stopped kissing and looked over at him.
"I thought you wanted me?"
"We do," the blond said, coming towards Brian, his hard-on bouncing in front of him.
Brian looked behind him at the dark haired man. His erection was enormous and Brian smiled in anticipation. The blond was unbuckling Brian's belt, as the dark man approached. Brian grabbed his erection and stroked it. The man grinned at him.
"Impressive," Brian said his hand full of cock.
The blond had Brian's jeans down and was sucking him off. The dark guy removed Brian's jacket and pulled off his shirt. He started sucking on Brian's tits.
"They may be young, but they're experienced," Brian thought, as he groaned in satisfaction.
The two worked their magic for awhile, until Brian pushed them back and stepped out of his jeans. "The bed's up here," he stated, heading up to the bedroom. The two followed him.
"I want to fuck you," Brian said, pointing to the dark haired man. "You fuck him."
They nodded. The dark man grabbed a condom from the bowl on the nightstand. He rolled it onto his massive erection as Brian watched. The blond laid back on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Brian found the tube of lube. He slathered some on the enormous penis, rubbing and kissing the dark man. He squirted some into the palm of this man who then rubbed it over the blond's waiting hole. His fingers worked the hole for a minute before he positioned his cock at the entrance. Brian watched as the dark man slowly fed his cock into the blond's hole. The blond gasped and wrinkled his face in pain. Brian wasn't sure the kid would be able to take it, but he did. That really turned Brian on.
"Wait," he said, as he rolled on a condom and lubed it.
The blond moaned and the dark man stayed fully impaled. Brian stuck his finger in the dark man's ass, his own penis following shortly thereafter. As his cock disappeared into the warmth and tightness, he hissed, "Yes."
They began to move. Brian liked driving the train, and he was determined to give both of them the fuck of their lives. He carefully paced his strokes, the dark man following his lead. They gradually built the speed until they all came in a blistering series of orgasms within seconds of each other.
They collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.
"Fucking fantastic!" the dark haired man gasped. These were the first words he had spoken.
"Yeah," the blond agreed. He rolled over and rested for a minute, looking intently at Brian. "Can we go again? I want you to fuck me," he said to Brian.
"In a minute," Brian said. He was tossing around the idea of letting the dark guy fuck him. That massive penis would be a real test for his ass. He might enjoy it.
Just then the phone rang. He debated not answering, but at one in the morning it might be an emergency with Gus. He picked up the receiver.
"Yeah," he said.
"Brian?" Justin replied.
"Hey," Brian responded. "Haven't heard from you for awhile. How was the play?" He tried to push the men away as they were starting to lick and suck various parts of his body.
"What?" the blond asked, looking up at Brian.
"Is someone there?" Justin asked.
"Yes," Brian admitted.
"In the loft? In our bed?"
"Um … yes," Brian had to say.
"I should have known," Justin sounded disgusted.
"Can I call you back in a minute or two?" Brian asked, trying to signal the two men to leave using hand gestures.
"Don't bother!" Justin replied and hung up.
"Shit!" Brian pressed Justin's number. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. "Fuck!" He slammed the phone down on the cradle. He laid back, closing his eyes and fighting the urge to cry.
Suddenly he felt a mouth around his dick and lips pressed on his own. Someone tweaked his nipples and he groaned into the mouth devouring his. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see them. He didn't try to stop them. Gradually he gave himself up to the sensations they were causing to race through his body.
In a few minutes he was panting and moaning. He felt a condom being rolled on his straining cock. A hand dragged up and down his shaft. "Lube," he thought, as the barrage of kisses continued and fingers squeezed and played with his tits.
A hand grabbed the base of his cock and held it straight up. He kept his eyes closed, but felt the weight shift from his legs and something press against the tip of his cock. The blond must be squatting above his penis, ready to take it in and ride it for all it was worth. He decided to let it happen.
He felt the boy's weight settle onto his groin, and knew he was fully inside. He heard a small gasp escape the kid's mouth and then the ride began. The blond was pretty good, certainly knew what he was doing, but Brian liked to be in control. He reached up and grabbed the blond, pulling him close, and rolling them over so that Brian was now on top. He rose up on his knees and began to fuck in earnest.
He sensed someone behind him and felt the dark guy press the tip of his penis to Brian's hole. Brian turned and looked at the man.
"Why not?" he thought. "I've fucked up everything else." He nodded to the dark man.
He felt fingers enter his hole and spread his anus. He was grateful for that. This guy was huge. Then he felt the penis breach the first ring of muscle. "Ahhh!" he yelled. "Christ, you're big."
"I'll take it slow," the dark man promised.
Brian leaned forward to ease access to his hole. The blond grabbed him and tried to suck his tongue down his throat. Brian was still fully inside him and he was getting frantic waiting for the other two.
Brian took some more of the big dick and again yelled in pain. He was about to tell the guy to stop when he shoved in the rest of the way. Brian screamed in pain. He had never felt anything like this before. The guy held onto him and stayed still until Brian quieted down. Then he began a slow, easy rhythm. It didn't hurt so much after that, and Brian began to enjoy being stretched and filled by the monster dick. He matched the rhythm, pounding into the blond. They weren't long in reaching climax, Brian first, being trapped in the middle, followed by the blond who he jerked off, and finally the dark guy shot his load in Brian's ass. He felt the huge dick being carefully withdrawn.
"God, you're tight! I don't think I tore anything, but you're going to be sore for a day or two," the dark guy told him as he disposed of his condom.
"You're telling me!" Brian replied, feeling around his anus.
"That was awesome," the blond contributed.
"Time for you two to go," Brian said.
They looked a little hurt, but started to get up.
"We could stay?" the blond offered.
"Come on!" the dark guy ordered. "Let's go."
They headed to the living room to gather up their clothes. Brian wasn't sure he could move, but he managed to raise up enough to see them going out the door. He flopped back on the bed, as he heard the door slam behind them.
He was sore in more ways than one. How did he always manage to royally fuck things up? How could Justin have called at just that moment?
"Fuck!" he yelled, pounding on the sheets.
He searched for the phone and hit Justin's number. It rang several times, and he was mentally composing a voicemail message, when a voice said, "Hello?"
Brian didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.
"Is that you, Brian?" Justin asked.
"Brian took a deep breath and said,
"Yes."
Justin waited. Brian didn't know what to say next.
Finally Justin asked, "Are you going to say anything?"
"What can I say? I fucked up."
"No shit!"
"If you hadn't hung up on me, I was going to tell them to leave."
"Them?"
"Uh … yeah."
"How many them?"
"Two."
"Oh."
"Justin, I …"
"Don't, Brian. You don't have to explain. I told you that before I left."
"I know but …"
"No, I mean it. I shouldn't have hung up on you."
"I can't stand it when we fight. Then I do stupid dumbass stuff like this," Brian said, shaking his head.
"I understand."
"You understand? How can you? I don't even understand it."
"I've always told you that I know you better than you know yourself."
"Must be true."
"See," Justin chuckled.
Brian was so relieved to hear that sound, so relieved that Justin wasn't screaming at him or cursing or hanging up. "It took two of them, and they didn't begin to fill my need for you," Brian said.
"Oh?"
Brian had expected a different reaction. He had meant it to be funny, but he also realized the innate truth of the statement. It seemed that Justin had realized it too.
"It's barely been a week and we've had how many fights? What are we going to do?" Justin asked, a tinge of panic evident in his voice.
"Fuck if I know," Brian responded.
"Fuck is right," Justin couldn't help saying.
Brian groaned. "I really needed to see you this weekend."
"I know. I should have cancelled my plans and told you to come."
"I wish you had."
They were both silent for a few moments.
"Can we plan on next weekend?" Justin finally asked.
"Try to keep me away, that is, if you want me there?"
"Of course, I do."
"Then, I'll do my best," Brian replied. "Let's say I'll be there Friday evening, and we'll be together till late Sunday. Sound okay?"
"It sounds great! Do you think you'll be able to do it?"
"I'm coming!" Brian stated emphatically.
"Leave that to me," Justin whispered with a grin on his face.
"That's a deal."
"I love you."
"I do too," Brian said, "and I'm going to fuck you to oblivion."
"Hmmm, never been to oblivion," Justin joked.
"You will be next weekend."
"I can hardly wait."
"Justin …"
"What?"
"I…I…Are we going to make it?" Brian asked.
"I hope so, but we didn't get off to a very good start."
"That's putting it mildly."
"I think we can do it, but we have to talk, not fight."
Brian groaned. "You know how I feel about talking."
"I know, but long distance, it's the best we can
do. And it's really necessary!"
Justin stated.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll try."
"See! If you talk to me, we get along really well."
"You mean if I agree with you."
"Well, that helps, of course," Justin giggled.
"Asshole!"
"I have a cute one, so I've been told."
"I'll have to agree again."
"I'm always right."
Brian groaned again. "What an egomaniac!"
"But you love me anyway."
"Yeah, I do."
"Can you make it till Friday night?" Justin asked.
"I'm going to give it a shot."
"Good boy."
Brian laughed. "Have I been demoted to 'boy', or am I getting younger by the minute?"
"You're perfect the way you are."
"I'd be better in New York."
"Friday."
"Yeah."
"Bye, Brian. I love you."
"Bye."
They both clicked off. Brian set down the phone and rolled over. He felt a twinge of pain in his ass. God, that guy had been massive! He got up gingerly and headed for the shower. He'd clean up and feel better. He'd wash off the smell and feel of those guys, and he'd keep his resolve until next Friday.
Now he had something to look forward to beyond the confines of fucking
Pittsburgh. Six days and he'd
be with Justin in New York.