Chapter 43: “Eternity”
Michael slept like s
hit. He groaned as he woke up, feeling stiffer than a c
ock in the backroom at Babylon. He slowly lifted himself to a seat, cracking his neck in each direction. He grunted with each loud crack, but the popping feeling of release was quite satisfying.
About the only thing I miss about dating that chiropractor . . . he thought to himself as he yawned. The doorknob to the left of him turned, interrupting any further thoughts. Michael’s eyes widened as he looked over, his breath quickening. He’d only gotten a couple hours of rest, tops, and he’d cried himself to sleep. He didn’t know if he could handle facing his boyfriend again.
The bedroom door creaked open and out poked Ben’s head. As his eyes landed on Michael, his face was serious, but not angry. He nodded in acknowledgment.
“Wanna talk?” Ben asked.
Michael swallowed. He’d been expecting to get yelled at immediately. “Uhh, sure,” he said. “If you’re ready . . .”
Ben nodded again. “I am ready,” he cleared his throat and walked over to join Michael on the couch. He let out a long breath as he plopped down, running his hands up and down his thighs in preparation for a discussion.
Michael watched him intently all the while, eyes wide, nerves fluttering on overdrive in his chest. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, trying to ease into things.
“Like s
hit,” Ben said. “I spent a long time thinking everything over—”
“Yeah, you seemed really upset,” Michael interrupted. His voice was quiet as his eyes fell. “You locked me out . . .”
Ben clicked his tongue. “Yeah, I did . . . and I’m sorry for that, Michael.” He looked over at him and gave a slight frown of apology. Michael just looked back at him hesitantly, blinking, waiting for him to continue. So Ben did.
“I admit that I overreacted. I guess I just . . . was kind of waiting for this to happen, all along.”
Michael shook his head. “Ben, I need you to know that I wasn’t planning on it—”
Ben held up his hand to stop him. “It’s okay,” he said. “Really.”
Michael furrowed his brows. “Why is it okay?”
Ben took a breath. “Be-cause . . . I have been there, too.”
“Been there? What do you mean, ‘been there’?” Michael blinked and shook his head as he always did when he was confused.
Ben glanced out the window quickly as he formulated his response. He rubbed the side of his face and then looked back at Michael, taking another breath. “A long time ago, Brian and I were at the White Party together—in Miami.”
Michael nodded.
“. . . anyway, we uhh . . .” Ben pursed his lips, letting the confession make itself.
Michael blinked, looking down at the floor as he thought it over. “You and Brian?” His voice was quiet and distant.
“That’s right,” Ben said. “ . . . twice.”
Michael rubbed his forehead and then brought a hand over his chin and mouth. His gaze was intense—it almost looked like he wanted to cry, shout and laugh all at the same time.
A moment of silence, and then Michael finally spoke, still not looking at Ben.
“And neither one of you was ever gonna tell me?!”
“Well, I was following Brian’s lead on this one, since he’s been your best friend practically your entire life. And he has some bull
shit philosophy about ‘Gay Etiquette,’ so I just figured it was better not to bring it up . . .”
Michael scoffed. “I can’t believe you actually went along with one of his bogus philosophies . . .” He shook his head.
Ben placed a hand on Michael’s knee, which caused him to look up at him. “We should’ve told you. A long time ago. And for that, I’m sorry, too.”
Michael nodded. “Well, like you said, I guess now we’re even.”
Ben frowned, glancing out to the side. “Only difference is, I didn’t f
uck him while you and I were together.” He looked back at Michael. “I didn’t even know you when it happened, or I guarantee it wouldn’t have.” He frowned.
Michael sighed. “You’re right.” His voice grew quiet again, guilt clearly bleeding through.
“But, I eventually thought about it enough that I calmed down,” Ben continued, “and I slept on it. When I woke up, I realized that now that it’s happened . . . it’s done. I’m not gonna be waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore.”
Michael blinked, raising his eyebrows in curiosity as he looked at Ben. “What do you mean?”
Ben sighed. “To be honest, a part of me has always been waiting for you to hook up with Brian.” He shrugged, matter-of-factly. “Y’know, every time the two of you would be out late together, ‘til the wee hours of the morning . . . every time you’d come home trashed . . . or tell me you’d spent the night in jail together . . .”
“Nothing ever happened,” Michael insisted.
“I know,” Ben said, nodding. “I know that now, and I’m sorry for being suspicious all those times. But it was eating away at me, and now it doesn’t have to anymore. I can let it go . . . go back to being Zen Ben.” He gave him a little smile.
Michael hinted at a chuckle, but was still too serious to go there. “But I mean, I still fu
cked him . . . you’re not upset?”
“Oh, I’m pissed,” Ben said seriously, nodding to solidify his insistence. “But I also know you had something you needed to resolve, from way before we ever knew each other. We’ve both had people in our lives who we’ve loved, or still love, and that’s okay. And despite how you just summed it up, I know that for you it was more than just a f
uck.”
Michael nodded slightly. “Well what does this mean now? For us?”
Ben contemplated for a second. “We are okay . . . but if it happens again—tell me, so I can get out of the way.” He patted Michael’s thigh and gave him a little squeeze, following by a firm nod and a smile.
“It won’t happen again,” Michael said.
Ben shook his head. “Let’s not make any promises. Let’s just . . . do our best, and if something comes up, we’ll deal with it together.” His smile turned genuine. “But I gotta tell ya, Michael, I won’t ever stand in your way of happiness.”
Michael shook his head. “You bring me happiness.” He reached out to touch Ben for the first time, taking the hand on his thigh in his own. “You do.”
“So do you,” Ben said quietly. They kissed. As they drew back, they smiled at one another.
“
Can I come out now?” a muffled voice called from across the room.
“Emmett?” Michael called, laughing.
The far bedroom’s door opened, and Emmett emerged, smiling and waving. “Thank god, I’ve had to tinkle for like an hour now but there was no way I was gonna interrupt you boys.” He pranced past them on the way to the bathroom, Michael and Ben both laughing as the door closed. Then they looked back at each other.
“So, we’re really okay?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” Ben said, smiling. “We are.”
---
F
uck this stupid bulls
hit. Brian was going to hear him out, and they were going to have a talk, FINALLY, goddammit. Justin was still pissed from being turned away the last time he’d made the effort, and he was no longer sure if he wanted to talk to Brian to try to actually resolve anything, or just to tell him the fu
ck off.
And he’d been turned away for
her, no less. Brian had actually told him to get lost because he had a female over. As much as he turned over the thought in his mind, he couldn’t make any sense of it.
Then again, Brian’s actions didn’t always have much discernable logic behind them . . .
Justin shook his head and groaned, thinking everything over as he trotted up the steps outside the brick complex. He saw the Corvette parked beneath the streetlight, sitting where the Jeep used to. He sighed as he contemplated how he’d never even been in that car . . . with Brian . . . and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the opportunity. Suddenly, Justin’s anger began shifting towards remorse and heartbreak.
No, fu
ck that! There was no way he was going to let himself enter sad mode. Anger was much easier to deal with. Anger was palpable. You could punch or f
uck anger away. Those tricks never worked on despair. Sure, they’d cover it for a while, but it never actually resolved.
Halfway up to Brian’s floor in the elevator, Justin suddenly panicked. He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say. At the moment, in fact, he wasn’t sure of why he even wanted to confront Brian at all.
Shit . . .
The elevator came to a halt at Brian’s floor. Justin remained still, taking in the complete, eerie silence. Brian’s building was always weirdly quiet, and he hardly ever saw anyone else entering or leaving. Strange . . .
He had two choices now. He could push the down arrow on the elevator, turn back and leave—and Brian would never even know he’d been there at all. Then he could resume life as he knew it. Maybe he’d even spare both of them a lot of grief.
Or he could face his ex-lover.
With a heavy sigh, Justin pulled open the elevator. S
hit, he’d apparently chosen to go with option B. God help him.
An abnormally nervous, shaky arm extended out in front of him as he pounded against Brian’s door, knocking loud enough he was sure to be heard. He was simultaneously proud of himself and scared s
hitless, mentally cussing himself out for not having bolted.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and Justin was staring at his ex. Brian was wearing a white button-up dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and dress pants. However, his feet were bare.
“What are you doing here?” Brian asked. He sounded . . . tired.
Justin cleared his throat. “You sent me away last time . . . but I still really need to talk to you.”
Brian just blinked, staring back at him with only a slightly irritated expression.
“Can we talk? Please,” Justin said. His desperation came through loud and clear in his voice, and on his face.
Brian shut his eyes briefly and took a loud breath in. “Fine,” he said, already walking back inside, leaving the door open for Justin to follow.
Justin stepped in after him and closed the door. Watching Brain walk was mesmerizing. Even though things were thoroughly f
ucked between them now, Justin couldn’t deny to himself that his heart was totally in knots without Brian.
He followed Brian all the way to the kitchen, and watched him grab his half-full glass of Jim Beam from the counter top and take a gulp before turning around to face him. He leaned heavily on the counter, propping himself against it with one arm. He held his glass casually with the other hand and raised an eyebrow at Justin, who stopped right at the entrance and just looked at him.
“So it’s over, huh?” Brian’s statement was more of an observation than a question, his voice totally deadpan.
“Huh?” Justin asked.
“With Ian,” Brian said. “It’s over now?”
Justin scoffed. “E-than,” he corrected. “And why would you say that?”
“The f
uck else would you be here for?” Brian scoffed back.
Justin frowned, looking away to the side. “Yeah, it’s over.” He felt exposed. Embarrassed.
Brian tongued the inside of his cheek and nodded, unamused. “What happened to the love that was gonna last an eternity?” he asked, his brows furrowing in sarcasm.
“Eternities aren’t as long as they used to be.”
“And so . . . what, you thought you could come crawling back here after your failed romance with Paganini Jr.?” Brian blinked several times, his frustration bleeding through.
“As a matter of fact,” Justin said, his voice becoming more confident. He looked up at Brian and took a couple steps towards him. “I’ve given it some thought—I think you should take me back.”
Brian raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “That so?”
Justin nodded. “I know that I’ve made some mistakes . . .”
Brian chuckled sarcastically. “Please. That’s not the problem. Never was.”
Justin’s brows furrowed as he took another couple steps closer, closing the gap between them almost entirely. “What do you mean?”
Brian glared down at Justin coolly. He took another swig of his drink, set the glass down on the counter, turned and walked a couple of steps away from him. He rubbed his face, then let his palm fall loudly against his thigh. He turned back to face Justin.
“I mean the problem is that you don’t want
me. And you never did.”
Justin’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true!”
“The fu
ck it’s not,” Brian countered, chuckling again.
“How can you even say that?!” Justin shook his head, a seriously disturbed look on his face.
“Because it’s the fu
cking truth,” Brian nodded.
“That is bulls
hit!” Justin scoffed. “You’re all I’ve wanted since the first night I set foot on Liberty Avenue! Since I saw you walking out of Babylon and you eyed me up and down, then came over to seduce me and take me home.”
Justin’s brows furrowed, his eyes now full of concern and remorse. He walked over to Brian and placed a tentative hand on his upper arm, slowly running it down. Brian watched him with one eyebrow raised.
“Since you brought me back,
here, and made love to me,” Justin said quietly.
“That wasn’t love,” Brian said, half amused. “I just gave you a rimjob and fu
cked your brains out.”
Justin blinked, a small smile forming. “It was love to me.”
Brian exhaled, his shoulders falling heavily. He walked away from Justin, passing him and heading back into the kitchen. “Well whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to keep you here,” he muttered and grabbed his drink again.
Justin shut his eyes tight and sighed. “Brian,” he said, turning towards him. He rejoined him in the kitchen. “I’m sorry.”
Brian gulped down the last of his drink and then grabbed the bottle and poured himself another. Justin stepped up beside him and placed a hand on top of Brian’s before he could lift the glass again. Brian reluctantly turned his head to look at his ex.
“I’m sorry I fu
cked up,” Justin said, completely serious. “I’m sorry for
every time I fu
cked up. For . . . when I left your door unlocked and you got robbed, and then I stole your credit card and ran away to New York.”
Brian scoffed and shook his head, rolling his eyes. Justin squeezed his hand, succeeding in causing Brian to look back at him.
“I’m sorry for breaking our contract—so soon after we’d agreed to the terms—when I kissed that virgin. I’m sorry I couldn’t make love to you after the bashing. I’m sorry for going to Vermont without you when you made partner, and not being here to celebrate with you.”
Brian watched him, listening, his face still largely blank. His eyes heavy with fatigue from a late night followed by a long work day.
Justin ran his hand up and over Brian’s arm to his chest. “And I’m sorry,” he stroked him, “for leaving you for Ethan. And hiding it from you.” Justin shook his head. “It was the biggest fu
cking mistake of my pathetic, stupid life.” He chuckled quietly, but his regret was clear.
Brian sighed heavily and pulled away, Justin’s arm falling and returning to his side as Brian leaned up against the opposite countertop.
A moment of silence. Brian stared blankly at the floor in front of him, Justin’s heart caught in his throat as he waited for him to speak. Finally . . .
“That doesn’t change anything,” Brian said, not looking at Justin.
“What the fu
ck do you mean?” Justin asked, shaking his head. “Of course it does—”
“No, it doesn’t,” Brian straightened himself up, towering over Justin and looking down his nose at him, his nostrils flaring slightly as anger crept through. “Because the fu
cking reason that all that s
hit happened at all is because I was never enough for you in the goddamn first place!”
Justin’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped open again. He uttered some sort of sound from his throat as his head started shaking. “H-how . . . can you even say that?!”
“Because it’s true,” Brian snapped. “Just like I already fu
cking said.” He chuckled, an angry smile spreading across half of his mouth. He shook his head. “I’ve never been enough for you. You want what I won’t give you. THAT’S why you were unhappy, and that’s why you had to act out, and do the s
hit you did!”
“Brian—”
“
Don’t argue with me,” Brian hissed. He laughed, a short, pissed off laugh and looked away from Justin, as he shook his head again.
“You might’ve convinced yourself this was what you wanted in the beginning,” Brian continued, “but it was never good enough for you.” He chewed his bottom lip. His expression softened, morphing into one of sadness. “But the sex was the most mind-blowing thing you’d ever experienced in your brand new out-and-proud life . . . it surpassed everything in your wildest homosexual fantasies . . . that’s why you stuck around.”
After a few seconds, Brian’s face turned back to Justin. He one-shoulder shrugged. His voice dropped to his lowest, most heartbreaking tone. “Hell, you even convinced yourself it was love.”
Justin scoffed. “I cannot f
ucking BELIEVE you right now!” He stepped over in front of Brian, looking him dead in the eyes. “How DARE you tell me that I didn’t love you?”
Brian blinked, saying nothing.
Justin took a breath. “Maybe that’s what you need to tell
yourself, because maybe it makes this whole thing easier. But it’s a crock of s
hit and I won’t put up with it! I’ve loved you from the first night we met.” He breathed. “I still do.”
The same lack of emotion remained on Brian’s face.
“And I know you love me,” Justin said bravely. He raised an eyebrow. “Even though you’ll never say it.”
Finally, a reaction. Brian’s face contorted into a smirk, and then he chuckled sarcastically again. He shook his head at Justin in irritated amusement.
“You think you’ve got it all figured out?” Brian’s irritated laugh came through with the last couple words.
“Yeah, I do,” Justin said, standing taller.
Another chuckle, then Brian’s face transformed to his alter-ego . . . Rage.
“What the F
UCK do you know?!” he shouted.
Justin swallowed. He spoke calmly, confidently. “I know what you want.”
“The fu
ck you do . . .” Brian’s voice was low, and full of grit. He looked completely disgusted.
“Yeah, I do,” Justin countered. “And I’ll fu
cking prove it.”
And with that, he grabbed Brian’s face and pulled it to his, capturing his lips in a loud, hard kiss. Brian’s mouth remained closed, resisting him, so Justin worked his arms around Brian’s back and pulled him closer, kissing him until Brian’s lips fell into synch with his own and gave him something to work with. That is, for a few precious seconds, until Brian ripped his head back, shooting Justin a death glare.
Justin wasn’t fazed. He pulled Brian in again as his lips reclaimed familiar territory. Brian’s stiff posture softened just enough for Justin to sense his victory. He wasted no time trying to be sweet about it, because he knew he’d instantly lose him that way. He made sure the kisses were sloppy, wet and full of lust, his tongue hungrily lapping against Brian’s, tasting him for the first time in what felt like a real eternity.
Hard c
ocks strained against their pants, sensing the presence of one another, dying to be reconnected, to revisit long-lost places. Brian’s hands had been holding onto the countertop behind him in strong resistance, but finally defied his wishes and latched onto Justin, pulling him closer, needing to grind himself against that familiar flesh, to satisfy that hunger in his groin.
Justin moaned into Brian’s mouth, expressing his profound longing for him in every possible facet. He slid a hand over and around to Brian’s chest, then all the way down to his bulge, cupping him, rubbing him. Brian growled and bit down on Justin’s lip, dragging it back and into his mouth, pulling it as he sucked so sweetly. In that single second of separation, there was a connection of eyes and such a sensation of heat between them that it couldn’t be contained any longer.
Justin brought his hands frantically to the top button of Brian’s shirt—and Brian immediately slapped them away, grabbed him by the wrists and pinned his arms back down at his sides. Justin stared at him, dumbfounded but horny as all hell, and Brian raised a confident, lustful eyebrow at him. He released Justin’s hands and then went to work unbuttoning his own shirt, tonguing the inside of his cheek teasingly as he stared back at Justin, who grinned, remembering his ex’s tactics lovingly. Brian did allow Justin to slide his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, placing it carefully on the clean countertop.
Brian came forward and grabbed Justin, spun him around and shoved him up against the kitchen island, bending him forward over the counter. His hands found their way around to his button and zipper, and seconds later Justin’s jeans and boxers were on the floor, around his ankles. Justin moaned as Brian stroked his hard c
ock a few times, taking care to cup and squeeze his balls. Brian grabbed an emergency condom from his back pocket, then his pants also found their way to the floor.
The sound of Brian putting the condom on was agony for Justin. He clawed into the hard surface in front of him, moaning as he felt Brian’s hot breaths falling against his neck. Luckily the agony only lasted a second, because Brian buried his c
ock deep inside of him. Justin leaned over the counter, moaning loudly. Brian grunted, running one hand over Justin’s torso, lifting his shirt halfway up as he stroked his chest and abdomen, then started pumping him. Justin cried out Brian’s name, sliding one of his hands overtop of the one Brian had firmly hooked onto his hip.
Brian bit his lip and groaned as he watched himself slamming up against Justin’s ass over and over. It’d been a long f
ucking time, and yet it felt like just yesterday they were fu
cking on his couch. Regardless of how much time had passed, his c
ock instantly remembered how much it loved being buried deep inside Justin. If nothing else, the two of them certainly did fit together perfectly—in a literal sense.
Too bad they’d never see eye-to-eye romantically, or at least, so it seemed. Something about that fact made Brian fu
ck Justin harder, having to claim this opportunity while he could, or something like that. His pulsating hips undulated faster and faster, Justin’s c
ock bouncing about as Brian f
ucked him.
His mouth was wide open as he alternated between moans and gasps for air and crying out Brian’s name, but Justin still turned his head toward Brian, leaning his face up against him, their cheeks pressed together. Brian slid both hands up to Justin’s chest, holding him close as he pumped him, their hips swaying back and forth together in the most beautiful sort of primitive dance. Their mouths finally found their way to each other, and they kissed. Passion, longing, and unresolved feelings poured out of each of them, flowing into the other. Lips, tongue, teeth, hands, pecs, hips, c
ock and ass, all connecting. They were one.
---
I smiled, admiring Brian’s key in my hand as the elevator reached my stop. I turned it back and forth, letting the light catch it and reflect into my eyes. A giddy smile spread over my mouth as I stepped out of the elevator, a confident strut working its way into my walk as I approached his door.
Since I was now free to come and go as I pleased, I didn’t waste time knocking. Besides, Brian and I had no secrets, nothing to hide from each other . . .
The dorky smile still on my face, I pulled open the door and stepped in.
“It’s me, thought I’d surpri—"
I stopped dead in my tracks.
There they were, dead ahead of me. Brian and Justin, f
ucking in the kitchen. And kissing. Their pants were around their ankles, their bodies totally conjoined, their hips pumping away. Brian was really giving it his all, f
ucking him hard and fast.
At least, that was what I witnessed before Brian heard me, and immediately turned, registered my presence, and stopped, his hips slowing to a halt, undoubtedly much to both of their disappointment.
My mouth hung wide open, and my eyes were probably wide enough to match. I blinked, staring for a good moment, unable to look away.
“I, uhh . . . Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I blurted, then immediately turned and fled.
“S
hit!” Brian’s voice echoed across the loft. I heard the sound of pants frantically being gathered and zipped. Followed by more swearing.
“Sage, wait!” he called after me.
But I was already gone.