Acknowledging Fears

Chapter 18

Author's Note: Mr. Benson is a classic erotic novel within the gay genre written by John Preston. It is pretty much as I've described it in this story.

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After the session, instead of heading towards the loft, Brian drove without direction, Justin silent beside him. Tentatively Justin laid a hand on his thigh and said, "Brian."

"What?"

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know."

And it hit Justin that Brian wasn't just talking about the present moment. He was talking about the course of their relationship. He stared at his partner as Brian continued driving without much regard for destination. It was late when Brian finally pulled into a Motel 6. Justin stared at him; this was not a place Brian Kinney would ever stay. At least not willingly. Brian reached over him and opened the glove compartment, removing a box of condoms and a tube of lube. Not meeting Justin's eyes, he said, "Get out."

Hesitant but compliant, Justin followed him as Brian went to the reservation desk, returning moments later with a room key. "Brian," Justin began.

"No talking. We're just here to feel," Brian said, voice distant. "No thinking, Sunshine."

Once in the room, Justin saw to his relief that it was cleaner than he'd expected. But still rather grimy. Brian didn't seem to care. He took off his shirt and unsnapped his jeans, revealing tufts of his chestnut pubes. He sat down on the bed and pulled off his boots, silently going through the motions. His jeans were the last to go, Brian tossing them carelessly on a chair. Finally he looked up at Justin and said, "You're over-dressed."

"No, I'm not."

"I said you're overdressed," Brian said, his voice suddenly harsh.

"I'm not a slave, Brian." Justin said, turning to go to the bathroom. He wasn't going to play this game. He was stunned when he felt Brian whip him around.

"Don't run away from me. Show some balls for once." It was a sinister echo of the words he'd spoken only days before they'd reconciled.

Justin's eyes met Brian's. "Don't do this," Justin said, suddenly afraid. And he'd never truly been afraid of Brian.

"You said that you felt like you were nothing more than a sex toy to me, didn't you, Sunshine?"

"Don't call me that," Justin said, voice breathy.

"What, Sunshine? Am I scaring you?"

Justin turned and sank down on the bed, head down, eyes downcast. How had things gone so bad so quick? When he looked up at Brian, it was with a challenging expression. He wants to play, so let's play, Justin thought, with renewed resolve. "Who am I, Brian? Am I Jamie?"

For a second Brian looked confused and then he understood. And with the realization came the thought that by doing this he was damning both of them. "I guess I'm Mr. Benson," Brian said.

"What do you want me to do, Master?" Justin said, not wanting to do this. This felt wrong. And being with Brian had never felt wrong before.

"I want you to show me what happens to bad little boys," Brian said, voice dangerous. "I want you to take that cock of yours out and play with it. But I don't want you to come. Not until I tell you that you can."

"No," Justin said, defiant. He wasn't going to let Brian dominate him. Not like this, he thought. This was a dangerous slope and one he wasn't willing to ski. "I'm not going to be your fuck slave, Brian. I'm not going to let you punish me for loving you."

Suddenly Brian's face hardened. "But you're willing to punish me for caring about you. You're willing to punish me for breaking all my own rules because you thought your own were more important. Where the fuck do you get off, Justin? And why am I the one to pay?"

Realizing he was dressed while Brian was naked, Justin became acutely aware of the vulnerability of the scene. "Let's go home."

"It's not your home," Brian pointed out. "It's my home."

Justin stared at him. "Then take me back to Daphne's. For fuck's sake, Brian, what do I have to do? Do you want me to leave you? Will that make things better? I'd give anything if I could take this away for you. But I'm not willing to have my identity subsumed into yours. I'm not just Brian Kinney's pet fuck."

"You've never been my pet fuck, Justin," Brian spat out. He reached down for his jeans. "Do you remember that night when I came to get you in New York?"

"When we stayed in a Motel 6 because it was the only room Michael could get? Yeah, I remember."

"Do you remember what happened that night?" Brian asked, his eyes finally meeting Justin's.

All of them had shared a room; Brian and Justin sharing a bed. Slowly Justin nodded. "You slipped down under the covers and sucked me off. And then you held me until I fell asleep. You let me fuck your mouth but you didn't get off until the next morning in the shower when I went down on you."

"Do you know why I brought you there?" Brian asked, voice incredibly low.

"No," Justin admitted. "You were incredibly pissed at me. I thought you'd beat the shit out of me when you found me in the hotel room."

"Instead I found you a place to stay," Brian reminded him. "And I got you a job so you could pay off the charges to my fucking credit card. And still you thought I viewed you as a trick. You know I've never been one to adopt anyone like Mikey. I've never been into strays. I probably would have given Hunter a few grand but I wouldn't have taken him in. Because I'm heartless."

"You're not heartless."

"And you shouldn't defend me. I'm an asshole. The mold was set long ago, Justin. I hardened because I had to. This veneer is carefully constructed because I wasn't allowed to be who I was. Who I am. You have been. Your mommy protected you."

"And yours betrayed you." Justin sat down next to him on the bed. "Brian, we're not our parents. We make our own pain."

"I really fucking hate it when you use my own words against me. I know we make our own pain. Neither of us has gone down the road expected of us. We've taken a different path than what we expected. But it seems that each turn has led us back to each other. Did you ever wonder what would've happened if I got that job in New York?"

"Which time?"

"The first time," Brian said. "When Kennedy & Collins offered me the job."

"Yeah, I wondered."

"What would you have done if I'd left?" Brian asked.

"You didn't."

"Purely hypothetical. Let's say I had gotten the job. What would you have done?"

"I'd have graduated. Probably ended up going to Dartmouth and been miserable in a pre-business program. And I'd have wondered what would have happened. I probably would have tried to find you after graduation."

Brian looked at him. "Because you thought you loved me or because you were obsessed with me?"

Justin looked directly at him and said, "I've always loved you. Even when I was with Ethan, you were the one who I was thinking of. It's always been you, Brian. I didn't come back because I felt guilty or because you were a back-up. I came back because I don't like who I am when I'm not with you."

"It's not healthy to be so dependent on someone," he pointed out. "Some would say that we're co-dependent."

"Did you miss me while I was gone? Did you think about me when you were jerking off late at night? Did I ever cross your mind?"

Slowly Brian nodded and Justin smiled, albeit sadly. "We do the same thing to each other, Brian. We're okay when we're alone but we're just stumbling through the motions. I think we're better together than we are apart. But that doesn't mean that I don't need my own identity. And, at the end of the day, I don't want a gold bar with diamond studs on each end shoved through my tit. I don't want to belong to you, Brian. I've never wanted you to consider me your possession. I can't sacrifice who I am just so you believe that I love you."

"Do you think I'm that selfish, Sunshine?"

"No. And I don't think you see me as only a pleasure device. I know you see me as a whole person but sometimes it's easy to forget that. You and I both get in a zone in the backroom. When is the last time you let me push you up against that wall and fuck you? I'm always the submissive and that's fine because it's different at home."

Brian stood and rested his forehead against Justin's. "Baby, we hurt each other so bad. Why?" It dawned on him minutes later that he'd once again called him baby. He rarely did that because he didn't really see Justin as a baby.

"You know it was once written that love means never having to say you're sorry. That's such a chick thing to say because no self respecting man or queer would say that. Love is hard; love sucks; and love is messy. Like sex when it's good. We're men, Brian. I think it was you who once said that being gay doesn't mean you subjugate your masculinity. Or something along those lines. I would like just once for the guys in the backroom to know that our relationship is somewhat balanced; that on occasion I get to fuck you, that it's your seed splattering the wall at Babylon."

"Why is that so important?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you are so blatantly a top. That everyone just assumes I'm your bottom bitch."

"You've fucked me in the backroom before," Brian reminded him. "And you're not my bottom bitch."

"Twice," Justin reminded him. "Maybe three times and how many of those times were you so loaded that you didn't even thinking about protesting. I don't want to dominate you all the time, Brian. I love it when you fuck me, I love it when your dick is in my ass. Hell, I crave that fullness that only your cock gives me. You know how many times I would walk around the apartment with a butt plug up my ass? I miss that feeling. Hell, I get drunk on that feeling. But I just wish that sometimes it was me driving."

"You drive at home. Think of the night we got back together when you fisted me."

Justin's mouth twisted into something that could loosely be described as a smile. "It wasn't something that usually happens. And you aren't really into frottage. Neither am I."

"Or water sports," he pointed out. "Drinking piss has never appealed to me. And I don't understand why some queers are piss queens."

"Ugh," Justin said, grimacing. At his expression, Brian laughed.

Looking at their surroundings, Brian said, realizing the change of subject was abrupt. "Justin, are you up for trying to get me hard? Do you want to try?"

"Are you ready? Are you sure?"

Hesitantly Brian nodded. "You realize we've always just done it. Never really talked about it before. Except when we were setting the ground rules for the floor show."

Justin smiled. "Not here. I don't want to make love to you here."

"Make love?"

"Oh stop that," Justin said, lightly punching him. Realizing what he'd done, he pulled back, looking chagrined and horrified.

Brian looked at the expression on Justin's face and said, "It's okay. I know you won't ever beat the shit out of me or hit me again. And I know that you meant that to be playful. I do know the difference. But that's part of the reason it's so important for me to be in control, for me to be on top. You have had a limited experience with other tops. You've been lucky. Justin, if you'd come onto the scene in NYC or San Francisco, I don't know what might have happened. Nobody can ever say you don't have balls. But you'd get eaten alive out there." He glanced at his blond and said, "That's why it's been important to me for the other guys to know that you're mine, so to speak. Setting the ground rules for your own protection. I know some guys who have been taken so forcefully that their rectum has been torn open, that the internal lining of their hole has been shredded. I didn't want that for you."

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah, oh," Brian mockingly replied. Then he said, "Christ, what was I thinking?"

"Yeah, it's pretty disgusting in here. Wonder how many johns have paid for it in this room?"

"Well that's a pleasant thought." Turning up his nose, he said, "Let's go home."

"Home?"

"The loft, twat. Don't bust my balls."

Justin stood and straddled Brian's legs. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Killing you with kindness," Justin said as he bent to take Brian's mouth in a gentle kiss. When he pulled away, Brian nipped at his bottom lip. Smiling Justin said, "I won't hurt you again, Brian."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Brian lightly replied.

"I won't. Come on, get dressed. This place creeps me out. I don't understand how anyone can get a hard-on in a surrounding like this."

"You'd be surprised." Brian remembered a night long ago when a much younger Brian had found himself in a surrounding much like this one. It was an experience he wouldn't wish on anyone. Not even his worst enemy.

"Brian?" Justin said, questioning tone in his voice.

"I'm okay, Sunshine. Let's go. By the way, when did you read Mr. Benson?"

Justin blushed slightly. "I found it in the erotica section of a used bookstore. It was the gay version of Looking for Mr. Goodbar or so I thought."

"Did you jack off while reading it?" Brian queried, as he hurriedly dressed. "Or did you find it disturbing?"

"The parts about the tubs of piss were disturbing. It's kind of a what not to do guidebook unless you really, really want to be a slave. Belong to someone else utterly. When did you read it?"

Brian zipped up his boots. And said, "I read it when I was a junior at Penn. It helped me realize that I wanted to be a top but not a brutal top like Mr. Benson and I sure as hell didn't want to delve heavily into the S&M scene. Too fucking scary. And white slavery exists, Sunshine. It's not just women who find themselves sold into bondage. There are men in the far corners of the world who live for little boys and young men who look like little boys. I've met some of those guys and it's not a situation you want to find yourself in. There are too many horror stories of guys who don't come back."

"Is that why you didn't want me dressing up as a hustler again when we were trying to expose Riekart?"

Brian stood and retrieved his keys. Glancing at Justin, he said, "Yeah. I also didn't like the idea of all those guys ogling you."

"Little green monster," Justin teased, relieved when Brian smirked.

"So sue me. I like knowing that you're mine. That I come home to you." His tone grew more serious, "I didn't want to be responsible for something happening to you. Your mom would've fucking killed me. Besides the fact that I'd miss you."

"You would, huh?" Justin asked, as he closed the door behind them.

"Twat," Brian said, in a tone that could only be described as loving. At least for him. He looked at Justin and tossed him the keys to the 'vette. "Pull it up outside the office."

Justin grinned at him. "You trust me?"

"Yeah, I fucking trust you," Brian said.

As Brian turned in the room key, he thought about just how naïve Justin still was. And how hard the road they'd traveled was. But through it all they came out the other side. He couldn't help wondering what would happen if one of them just gave up on the other. How the other would survive. He shuddered as he thought about that. But he put the thought out of his mind. I'll think about that tomorrow, he thought, realizing he was channeling the spirit of Scarlett O'Hara. Wouldn't Em be amused? He thought.

But as Justin pulled the 'vette around, Brian thought once again of just how lucky he was. When he got in the car, he leaned back against the seat. "You drive."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Take us home."

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