Everything at Once

Chapter 11

Everything at Once-Chapter 11-Luxury

BRIAN'S POV

Do that to me one more time
Once is never enough with a man like you

There are so many things wrong with this picture.

It’s just not right to be washing spunk off of your (much younger and very hot) boyfriend’s stomach…

while he sits (naked) on the bathroom counter of a luxurious hotel…

filled with bible buyers…

talking your four-year-old son down from a “Why can’t I take the kitten to the grocery store? I took her to a pet store. What’s the difference?” ledge…

while you try to act like you don’t know that there’s going to be a knock on the door in, oh say, six minutes.

He flips my phone shut and puts it on the counter.

“I explained it to him. He calmed down, and Lindsay’s happy. It’s very nice of you to clean me up, but I can do it myself, you know.” Right, like this would get done if I wasn’t doing it. We’d be fucking again. Please stop licking my ear.

“It’s the least I could do since my son has no use for me anymore. He wants ‘Mr. Justin.’” I toss the washcloth in the sink and plant my now cold hands on his thighs. “Apparently all I’m good for is fucking you and cleaning you up.”

“Oh, you’re such a big baby. It’s unbelievably cute when you get jealous over me and Gus.”

“You’re unbelievably cute sitting on this bathroom counter when I can see your pretty ass in the mirror.” I yank him closer to me, wrapping his legs around me. His skin is warm, this counter is cool, and, oh fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now.

“Ow, that hurt.”

“Yeah, right. You loved it.” He reaches behind him and pulls one of my hands off his back, glides it down his chest, right over his rock hard little nipples, and plants it on his cock, which is painfully hard. That’s what hurts. He licks his lips and looks at me from underneath those long eyelashes. He has no shame. His hand covers mine, gripping my fingers and moving it the way he wants it, my thumb swiping the beads of fluid beginning to spill out.

“Is somebody knocking on our door?” Forehead to forehead. Hand in hand. A true team effort.

“Quite possibly. You should put some clothes on.” He starts pushing me faster, his grip on my hand getting tighter, everything getting much more slippery. I let him lead for a little while longer, closing my eyes and listening to all the little sounds he makes when he jerks off. I wonder if he says my name this many times when he’s all alone. Fuck, that is so hot.

“I thought you put that sign up—that we’re not to be disturbed.” He’s leaning against me now, tucking his head in the crook of my shoulder, his legs holding me against the cabinets below us. The drawer pulls dig into my thighs, even through my jeans. He’s getting close.

“I guess someone can’t read.” My free hand spreads out on his chest. “Let go. Lean back. Now.” His arm falls from me as I push him back against the mirror and lean down to suck his orgasm right out of him. He props himself on his hands, arching his back to stay off the cold mirror, one foot struggling to find the edge of the counter, the other dangling as my palm pins his thigh next to the sink. My hand is firm on the small of his back as he fills my mouth with the sweetest stuff that has ever gone down my throat.

“Oh my god, my god. I didn’t know you were going to do that.” They ought to serve him in one of these restaurants; he tastes that good.

“I didn’t want to have to clean you up again.” I suck every last drop out of him before I pull him away from the mirror to kiss me; I love his disoriented little face.

“Fuck.” He runs his hands through his hair as I help him off the counter. “Who the fuck is banging on our door?”

“If you don’t get dressed, you’ll never know. Now go.” I swat him on the ass and push him into the bedroom. “Hurry up.”

Fellatio-boy, my ass. That ought a hold him for a while. I close the bedroom door behind me as I head into the outer room.
*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
'Cause we are living in a material world
And I am a material girl

“Praise holy Jesus hallelujah! Somebody finally opened the fucking door!” Emmett’s shirt looks like Debbie’s curtains. I hope my money didn’t pay for that.

“See, I told you they were fucking. You owe me twenty dollars.” Theodore looks mildly pleased with himself.

“We weren’t fucking. I was enhancing his masturbatory experience.” I hate fags with limited sexual repertoires.

“God I want that.” Theodore’s face gets all dreamy for a second. “But not with you. I didn’t mean with you.” Ah, the end of a fantasy. Sad, really, and well, just sad.

“It wouldn’t matter if you did. I wasn’t offering.”

Emmett pushes past me into the room. “Okay ladies, Paul’s on the clock here. Let’s get moving. Chop, chop! Where’s Barbie?”

“I think you mean Skipper.” Ted Schmidt’s sarcastic sideshow.

“Oh no, honey, I’ve seen this boy naked. He’s no Skipper.” Emmett shields his mouth with his hand and whispers. “Trust me.”

“Why the fuck do you two whisper when I’m standing right here?” Paul stays above the fray as I help him set everything up. “And when the fuck did you see Justin naked?”

“He’s seen me a million times, in the backroom at Babylon, just like everyone else.” Justin is standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking confused, dumbfounded, and maybe slightly pissed. “What’s going on?”

I guess I don’t answer him quickly enough for Emmett. “We’ve brought you a little surprise sweetie!” He starts out full of piss and vinegar, gesturing all over the place, and then just sort of falls flat.

“Surprise.” Thank you Ted. Justin gives them a weak smile and looks at Paul.

“Who are you?”

“Paul. I’m a friend of Brian’s.”

“I’m Justin.” He gives him that little wave he gives to people when he really doesn’t want to wave to them at all.

“It’s nice to meet you Justin.”

“You, too. Brian, can I talk to you for a minute?” He walks back into the bedroom. I follow him and close the door. “What’s all that?” He leans against the bedroom door, his hand tucked behind him, clutching the doorknob.

“Just a little something I whipped up.” I stand right in front of him, my hands in my pockets.

“With Em, Ted, and that other guy?”

“Yes. They did most of the work actually.”

“Is that what you were doing yesterday?”

“Mostly.”

“What is it?” He’s trying to keep his jaw firm. He’s trying to pretend he’s mad at me. I can respect that.

“A transformation. You’re going to California to work in the movies. I think you should look the part. I think you should look like who you really are.”

“Who I really am?”

“Right.” I reach behind him and dislodge his hand from the doorknob and put his arms around my neck.

“Like what? A guy who’s dropped out of school umpteen times, illustrates comic books with gay story lines, so he can feel like he’s always fucking his boyfriend even when he’s not, and, by some stroke of dumb luck, gets a picture deal? I should look like that?”

I kiss him so he’ll shut up. “No. Who you really are. Like I told you the other night when we were on our excellent adventure---a strong, smart, beautiful man who just happens to be the Assistant Art Director of a major motion picture.” He looks at me like I’m the strangest person he’s ever met.

“I’ll never understand you.”

“It’s a waste of time. Trust me.” I unhook his hands from around my neck. “Now let’s go out there. Paul’s waiting for you.”

“Who’s he anyway? An ex-trick?”

“No.” I don’t fuck everybody I know. Jesus. “One of my tailors.”

“Oh my god, he’s like royalty.”

“See, you do understand me.”
*********************************************************************************************************************

you better work ( cover girl )
work it girl ( give a twirl )
do your thing on the runway

I never really realized how much I like to watch—happens in the backroom all the time—half of the thrill is getting your dick sucked, the other half is watching everyone else get it too. It’s happening now.

I’m lying on the unused sofa in our suite watching Emmett fuss over Justin, watching Ted reorganize everything that’s already been laid out, and watching Paul get everything ready so he can start this transformation I’m bank rolling. God, this is worth every penny. If they stay this focused on what they’re doing, I’m jerking off.

Scratch that. Emmett is looking at me. He fucking knows me too well. He glances in my direction and then turns his attention back to Justin. His words, however, are for my benefit.

“Okay, Justin, honey, what we’ve done here, and, by we, I mean Brian, and the three of us, of course, is try to put together a new wardrobe for you. Something a little more grown up, 'ready for the real world,' 'look out world, here I come,' 'Justin Taylor, this is your life'………..”

“I think he gets it ‘Queer Day.’ Let’s move things along.” Emmett flips me off.

“It’s ‘Clear Day,’ but I’m not going to be mean to you because you’ve never gone through the pain of a broken heart before, so I’m just going to chalk that comment up to your aggravated emotional state.”

“Both of you, cut it out.” Justin gives both of us a warning look. “This is about me. Remember?”

“You’re right. I apologize Justin.” Emmett is such a fucking goody-goody. “Let’s look over these lines that Paul brought.” They walk over to the racks Paul set up. “Okay, now Brian really wanted you to go with the Armani line, naturally; he wants you to look like him. But, the three of us talked about it, and we brought some cut sheets and a lot of samples from the Calvin Klein and Dolce & Gabanna lines because, let’s face it, you’re not over thirty.”

I don’t feel like jerking off now. “Let me see.” I poke myself into their huddle.

Theodore inserts his logic into the mix. “Em’s right, Brian. No offense, but he’s young, and he’ll be in L.A. Styles there are more casual, more laid back.”

“How would you know?” I shoot him a look.

“I watch E!”

Whatever.

“You don’t buy trendy suits. Trends go out of style. You buy classics.” Trust me. I know.

“Brian, I like this, a lot.” Justin is enamored. He’s been ignoring us and flipping through the Dolce & Gabanna line this whole time. “These suits are fucking hot. And look at these!” He points me to these very sleek denim jeans that are hotter than hell, the model wearing this corduroy sport coat with a dress shirt that’s open, no tie, and this fucking fabulous belt.

“Look at that belt.” We say it unison. His face lights up like a Christmas tree when he realizes that I like it too.

“You’d look unbelievable in something like that. Paul, did you bring samples from this line?” Now I’m interested. I can jerk off later.

“Absolutely. It’s popular among our younger customers.” Yeah, the ones with money. Paul looked like he wanted to choke before he admitted to me that I wasn’t one of his “younger customers” anymore. I guess it’s time to pass the gauntlet. “And we took the liberty of picking the one for tonight out of that line as well. I hope you’re okay with that.” He pulls the dark navy suit out of the bag it’s hanging in. It’s not what I asked for, but they’re right, it does suit him better.

Justin takes it from Paul, his mouth hanging open. “This is for me, for tonight?” There’s a white D&G shirt behind it, a belt, everything.

“Yeah, Brian gave me your measurements, and we altered one for you for tonight. Why don’t you go try it on, so I can be sure it fits?” Justin takes everything into the bedroom. I stay with Paul, flipping through cut sheets, looking through neck ties, listening to Ted as he points out what he likes from both of the younger lines. His taste has improved dramatically.

“Brian, I think it’s really nice of you to do this for him. Flip back one page. Yeah, that page. That’s the one I like. Those pants with that jacket look really nice. Don’t you think?”

“He deserves it. I like this jacket too, although that fabric might be too heavy out there.”

“Look at sixteen. This ensemble is really hot. You could wear this to work and then straight to a club. He’ll be beating them off in something like---“

Emmett interrupts us to announce Justin’s arrival back into the room as the D&G boy. I watch Justin as he walks over to the mirror, turns around a couple of times, lifts the jacket to check out his ass, and smiles with immense satisfaction. He turns to me. He wants to know.

“Brian, whadda’ya think?”

I’m literally at a loss for words.

Whoa.

“Brian?” There he goes lifting up that jacket again. “Answer me. You don’t like it?’

“I think you should pick something that doesn’t accentuate your ass so well.” He smirks at me. “But I’m just being selfish.”

“Fuck that. I love my ass.” Join the club.

I don’t remember much after that………….

I know that there were numerous things tried on and marked, arguments about how pants should fit, when and how you should tuck your shirt in, how unbuttoned is too unbuttoned……………

I remember Emmett giving Justin a bunch of D&G underwear, and Ted giving him an Armani wallet. “Something to hold all the money you’ll be making.” It was monogrammed………….

I remember helping them pack everything up and get it in the elevator, and Justin being gracious……………..

I remember Emmett saying that he had six pairs of pants on hold with Paul because he couldn’t decide which ones he wanted, that Ted’s new threads were already bought and paid for, my gift to them for doing this for me………….

I remember Justin closing the door to the suite and looking at me in that lusty way he looks at me……….

*************************************************************************************************

Man it's a hot one
Like seven inches from the midday sun
I hear you whisper & the words melt everyone
But you stay so cool---

a little later …

“Seven o’clock. The name’s Kinney. K-I-N-N-E-Y. Yes, for two. Justin, seven okay?”

“Sure.”

“Seven. Thank you.” He hangs the phone up for me. “You could have done that for me, you know.”

“It was so much more fun watching you do it.”

“Please untie me. I want to hold you.”

“That’s the best reason you’ve had so far.” He ponders my request. “But, no.”

“This is ruining these neckties.”

“We’ve got more than twenty in here. Ties can be replaced. Stop arguing with me.” He opens the nightstand drawer and puts condoms and lube on the bed.

And then he’s back on top of me again, running his lips all the way from my wrists, bound to the bed frame, down to my shoulders as I lie on my back, moaning like a French whore underneath him. The fact that I can’t touch him makes everything he’s doing feel a million times more intense. I really want to touch him and he knows it. He’s exploiting it. Little evil bastard.

“Brian, do you want to touch me?” Yes. Fuck yes. I’ve practically been begging.

“Yes.” I give him my best, “I’ll do anything you want. Really, I will.” look. “Please.”

“Find another way.” Ugggggggh.

“While I’m thinking about that, could you at least blow me?” He laughs as he leans down to kiss me.

“No.” He meanders down my torso, sucking on my chest. He’ll suck on that. I throw my head back, looking at the ceiling for inspiration. He knows I’m getting nowhere. And then he’s looking in my eyes again, shaking his head. “Somebody needs to mark this date and time down in history. The first time Brian Kinney hasn’t had a brilliant idea right off the top of his head. I’m going to help you, just because I feel sorry for you.”

Pity. I’ll take it. Damnit.

“Okay, Brian, why did I tie you up in the first place?” Oh boy, twenty questions. I thought he meant he was going to untie me. Wrong.

“Because by day, you’re a magnificent cartoonist, and by night, you’re a little kink mister?” He pinches the shit out my left nipple. Fuck. “Okay, okay. Because I made you mad.” And because you’re a little kink mister.

“Be specific.”

“Because you looked so fucking hot in your new D&G suit and crisp white shirt that was unbuttoned a little too much that I became over-stimulated and tore it off you. Is that specific enough?”

“And then what.”

“I let it hit the floor.”

“That’s bullshit. You threw it on the floor.” It’s true. I did. Justin and his little “details.”

“It was a crime of passion. There were mitigating circumstances.” His tongue is mitigating its way into my mouth right now. God, I want to suck his face off.

“What mitigating circumstances?” I could concentrate a helluva lot better if he would quit asking me these questions and nibbling on my ear at the same time.

“You looked like supercalifragilisticexpialidociously fucking hot in it, and I’ve never seen you,” Oh my god, “Can you please stop sucking right there when I’m trying to talk?”

“No. You’re being punished.”

“And I’ve never seen you look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a sharp-dressed man. It made me temporarily insane.” Yeah, I’ll plea that. Fuck, I need a lawyer.

“It’s a double standard. You practically ground me if I let any of your ‘gay apparel’ come in contact with the floor.”

“It’s a first offense. I have no prior record. You should forgive me. Let me hold you and make it up to you.” I'm so fucking pathetic right now. Since when did my dick become my court-appointed attorney? I would never beg like this.

“Well, since you did pay for the suit, I could take that into consideration.” Please……………

“I’ll make love to you.” I cannot believe my dick just said that.

“Now you’re just acting desperate.” I am desperate. “Okay, I’ve got it. I’m going to help you allocute.”

What? “Come again?”

“I want you to allocute for your crime, but I’m gonna help you. Then, we can talk about untying you.” How can you say no to somebody when he keeps kissing your balls?

“Can you please stop using big words? They make me excessively horny. They make me want to fuck you on stage at a spelling bee while they give you your trophy.” While you wear your new D&G suit.

“I have a trophy from a spelling bee.” That figures. “Okay, are you ready?”

No. “No.” I lean up to kiss him. “Can’t we fuck first and allocute later, like over dinner?”

“Nope. Now.” He props his elbows on either side of my head. “Okay, repeat after me.” Oh god. I really should be represented by counsel. Good counsel. Not my fucking dick.

“Okay. I, Brian Kinney.”

“Okay. I, Brian Kinney.” He flicks my head. Fine. “I, Brian Kinney.” He better let me in his ass after this.

“do solemnly swear…”

“do solemnly swear…” while I roll my eyes. I feel like I’m in a fort with Mikey again, or boy scouts. Uniforms….

“that I will never…”

“that I will never…”

“bitch at, chastise, or otherwise scold Justin Taylor…”

“bitch at, chastise, or otherwise scold Justin Taylor…” He’s enjoying this way too much.

“for throwing my gay apparel on the floor…”

“for throwing my gay apparel on the floor…” Fa la la la la la la la la.

“when he’s in the throws of unmitigated passion…”

“What did I say about vocabulary words?” He knows I’m hard as granite; he’s stroking me.

“Say it Brian.”

“when he’s in the throws of unmitigated passion…”

“that I, Brian Kinney, have caused in the first place.”

“that I, Brian Kinney, have caused in the first place. Now please untie me. Pleeease.”

“Only if you promise to finish because I’m not done.” Oh my god, he’s not done. Fine.

“Okay.”

“Promise.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Don’t say that.” He drives me bonkers.

“Cross my heart and hope to fuck.”

“Much better.”

“Now, untie me.” Ah, finally, freedom. Damn, my arms hurt. “Okay, now I’ve got you. What the fuck else do you want?” I give and give and give and all he does is take, take, take.

“Let’s get under the covers.”

“If we had a flashlight, it would be like a real fort.” He flicks me again. Now he’s on top of me of again, the blood is rushing back to my arms, and he’s in them, so, all in all, I’m much happier. “Carry on.”

“Okay, where was I? that I, Brian Kinney, have caused in the first place Oh yeah. ‘And that I, Brian Kinney….”

Just a minute, I’m kissing you……………….. “And that I, Brian Kinney…” His ass is freezing. I’ll warm it up. Get it ready.

“as an expression of my deep, passionate, and never-ending…”

“as an expression of my deep, passionate, and never-ending…” It warmed up quick.

“love for Justin Taylor…”

“love for Justin Taylor…” I wonder if he can go to California, and I can just keep his ass here?

“will hereby not consider…”

“will hereby not consider…” When did he put a condom on?

“the mind-blowing fuck that I am about to receive from Justin Taylor as a redemption of the coupon I gave him in the shower this morning.” He could not have said that any faster or be smiling any brighter. He kisses me before I can say anything. Never represent yourself when you’re up against the kink mister.

“I admire your subtlety. It’s very sexy. You’ve got some smooth moves.” And manners. His hands are warm, the lube is getting there.

“See what happens when you dress me up?” If this is what happens, I’d have done it a lot sooner. This is actually kind of nice.

“Kiss me while you’re doing that. Haven’t I taught you anything?” His tongue begins to explore my mouth as he begins to explore me, as I realize that I’m in his arms now. My body ignores the conflict stirring in my mind, and yet he doesn’t. He fucks one and makes love to the other.

“You’ve taught me everything.” He means it, but I don’t know when that happened. I don’t when he went from a boy in sneakers with ‘no place special’ to go the night my son was born--to a hot, successful man who has a million places to be, but wants to be with me. I don’t know when I taught him to touch me like this. I don’t know when he learned how to listen to me when I was sure I had nothing to say.

“Take your time and show me.” I don’t know that we’ve ever been face to face when this has happened, or maybe I’m just seeing it for the first time. Maybe my eyes are just fooling me. It’s really dark in here.

“Brian, it’s okay. Let go. Relax.” His eyes look so dark, so sure. “I want you to hold me. Put your arms around my neck.”

“Just go slow.”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, I want it to last.”

He kisses me, as he makes me take him, his hand trailing down my face, as he forces his way inside. The real resistance, both of us know, has nothing to do with anything physical. The real pleasure, however, gladly stolen from it.

“Don’t worry Brian. I’ll make it last.”

*******************************************************************************************************************
JUSTIN’S POV

Love in an elevator
Livin' it up when I'm goin' down

6:49 pm

Brian looks amazing in his Armani suit. I think I look better. I beat him to the down button.

“Don’t think you’re gonna blow me in this elevator Sunshine.”

Somehow I feel above that now.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Let’s go.”

“You’re just hungry.” No kidding.

I’ve never stepped off an elevator looking as good as Brian, not to mention smelling as good. He knows exactly where we’re going. I’ve got it written down in my pocket.

“I think it’s that one Brian.”

“I know which one it is. I’ve eaten there before.”

“When?”

“Work related.” He puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk inside. It’s pretty busy. There are a few straight couples ahead of us. We wait about five minutes. I’m looking around at everything and caught off guard when Brian takes my hand. It’s our turn. “Kinney. Two. Seven o’clock.”

Kinney. For two. That just gave me chills.

“Right this way, sirs.” Brian motions for me to walk in front of him. I do.

Our table is fairly private, I guess. There are maybe five other tables around us that are all filled, but we’re kind of in the back. This place has nice ambiance . There’s a candle on the table, a white tablecloth, and I can see out into the hotel’s huge lobby. We’re seated in the inner ring of the restaurant. Beats looking out over the parking deck.

“So, are you having a good time so far?”

“Huh?”

“I said: Are you having a good time so far?” So far?

“Yeah, I’m having a great time.” I undo my napkin and put it in my lap. “It’s so nice not having to cook for once. Not to mention having a night away from the kids.” I’m straightening the sugar and artificial sweetener packets. I hate it when they’re all mixed up and not facing the same direction.

“Those brats get on my fucking nerves, and I am so fucking sick of your chicken surprise casserole. If you weren’t such a dynamo in bed, I’d have divorced your ass by now.”

“You signed a pre-nup. You’ll get nothing. You stay for the rim jobs.”

“True. The gardener’s getting really good at those. Have you been spending extra time with him behind my back?”

“A rim job behind your back? Is that a joke?” He broke first. I win. “Seriously, there aren’t going to be anymore surprises, are there?”

“Just one.” He’s leaning in towards me with a very serious look on his face. Oh my god.

“What?”

“I bought you a plane.” Asshole.

“Very funny.” He’s laughing at me.

“I’m not kidding. I did. It’s really nice. It came with these really hot flight attendants in these really nice D&G uniforms, and when they push the little cart around, you can get anything you want.” Someone just brought us water.

“Thank you….So they’re basically fellatio boys. You just stole my idea and put them on a plane.” Busted.

“Well, it’s your plane.”

“When do I get it?”

“Not for a while. It’s on layaway.”

“Having financial problems?”

“Just recently. This guy I’m seeing is a demanding little princess. But what can I say? I’m just a sucker for his hot little ass and his huge coc—“

“Hi, my name’s Audrey. I’ll be your server this evening. Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” Not the one on the table. He’s looked at everything else.

“Hi.” I'm so embarrassed. “We need a few more minutes. Thank you.” I give Brian the evil eye. “Brian, you saw her coming! Fucking don’t do that again.” I kick him under the table—hard.

“Fuck. That hurt!” Good.

“This is why we don’t go out. It’s not because you don’t ‘do dates.’ It’s because you can’t behave yourself. You act like a ten-year-old.”

“It’s my reverse aging process.”

“Read your fucking menu.” He tucks his face behind his menu like my harsh whisper scares him.

When Audrey returns, Brian is on his best behavior. He lets me order first, picks out this really nice red wine—I don’t know shit about wine—and barely hits on the wine steward when he brings it to us to see if it meets with our (yeah right, Brian’s) approval. I don’t think that guy had any idea that when Brian told him: “It’s perfect.” –that he was talking about his ass, not the wine. He better not follow that guy into the bathroom.

“Not everybody likes to be hit on Brian.”

“Sure they do, if you do it right. It’s just flattery. Everyone likes to be flattered.” That’s Brian’s secret weapon—Flattery. Fuck, it works on me, like a charm. “It’ll work on you a little later when I charm you right out of that suit.” See, I was right. Oh, yummy, this is a huge basket of bread. I’m going to need more butter.

“That’s the only reason you bought me this suit, so you could take it off of me.” He can flatter; I can flirt. That’s my secret weapon.

“And put it on you. I had a really good time putting it on you too.” Our faces are almost touching over our salads. One glass of wine down—a piece.

“That’s your kink. Washing me, dressing me.” He just kissed me. Whoa. “And kissing me when I’ve got a mouthful of salad.”

“You’ve always got a mouthful of something. Sitting across from you when you’re all dressed-up, fantasizing about what I’m going to do to you later when I get you back upstairs.”

“Not to mention your whole necktie thing. That’s your biggest kink.” I’m giving him my evil grin because even though this shirt looks much better without one, I let him put one on me anyway, just so he could get it out of his system. It’s hanging right inside the suite on our doorknob right now. He wouldn’t let me take it off until we were literally walking out the door.

“Don’t tell anybody. That’s our little secret.” You’d think somebody just gave him another corvette, and he’s just sitting there chomping on lettuce and daydreaming about neckties.

“That’s not the table leg Brian.”

“No shit Sunshine. Finish your salad.”

“Can I get you gentlemen anything else right now?” I never see her coming. “Another bottle of wine perhaps?”

“That would be great. Thank you.” That’s Brian’s decision. I’m not paying for this.

Our dinner arrives, and I'm mostly just grateful to have food in my stomach to absorb the wine. Plus, I’m just really hungry. Fucking all day takes a lot of energy, even when you’re young. God, Brian must be exhausted.

“It doesn’t matter where I take you, you always order a rib-eye and a baked potato.”

“So?” He sounds like my father.

“You would think with all of your upper-class, country club upbringing, you’d prefer something more exotic once in a while.”

“You sound like my father.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Like he thought I should prefer Dartmouth over art school. Like I belonged there.”

“I’m talking about dinner, not about your education. Don’t be dramatic. Have some more wine. Is your steak cooked to your specifications?” He fills my glass.

“Yes. It’s delicious. I mean, well, he was that way about everything. Food, too. It’s just a touchy subject with me.” This is really good wine.

“I really like this wine.”

“Good. It’s expensive as shit. So, I’m listening.”

“Well, like, on our birthdays, my parents would always tell me and Molly that we could go out to eat—anywhere we wanted—you know, as a family.”

“Right.”

“Well, I always wanted to go to McDonald’s.”

“Because you were a kid, and you wanted a Happy Meal. You were probably a happy little kid who just wanted a happy little meal.”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not. I hated McDonald’s. I was terrified of the Hamburgular; it was a whole different thing. Go on.”

“That’s weird. I almost forgot about him. Okay, so anyway, every year, my parents would ask me where I wanted to go—“

“And you’d say McDonald’s.”

“Right. And then we’d pile into the car, and my fucking father would drive us somewhere else. He wouldn’t even say, ‘Justin, we’re going to go to The Blah Blah Steakhouse’ instead of McDonald’s.’ I’d just be in the car, thinking I was going to McDonald’s, and then, all of a sudden, we’d be in the parking lot of another restaurant, and he’d be yelling at me to get out of the car.”

“That’s fucked up.” He refills my glass and nods to Audrey to bring me some more water. “And more butter too, if you don’t mind, for him. Thank you.” Like she cares who’s going to eat the butter.

“No shit. So, after a few years of this, I wised up. Once I pitched a holy fucking fit on the way home, and my mother made my dad go through the drive-thru and get me whatever I wanted—“

“What did you want?”

“A Big Mac, French fries, and a large Coke. I was up all night—peeing and bouncing off the walls.”

“That’s how I spend my birthdays.”

“Not for the same reasons.”

“True.”

“And then I just started refusing to go, and I would stay home on my birthdays and draw, while my family went out to eat.”

“That’s fucking sad Justin.”

“I know. It really is.” It feels sadder than it usually does. Maybe I’m a little drunk. “Sometimes my mom would go out after they got back, and my dad was committed to his beer and sports, and get me whatever I wanted and bring it back. It just didn’t feel the same, though, you know. She finally quit; I think she could tell I didn’t really want it anymore.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t celebrate your birthday. I didn’t know.”

Shit. “That’s not why I told you that Brian.”

“I know. Your father’s a fucking shit head douche bag.” He might be a little drunk too.

“So was yours.”

“True, but in a different way. Are you going to eat your asparagus?”

“Yes, but you can have some if you want.” He fucking loves asparagus.

“Your father wasn’t cruel to your mother—at least not in front of you.” He just took half of my asparagus. I said some.

“No, he wasn’t. Not that I saw. But she wasn’t always happy. I knew that.” I hope he’s enjoying them. We pause as Audrey returns with water, butter, and another basket of bread. Brian will talk about cock in front of anyone, but not about his father. “What did he do to your mother?” He never talks to me about this stuff. I watch him drain a full glass of wine, refill his glass, and top mine off.

“The details aren’t important anymore. I think the worst thing was being the only boy in a house where the rest of your family is being terrorized and not being able to do anything about it.” If you didn’t know Brian, you’d think that there was no emotion on his face right now, but I see it. I can feel it. He looks away.

“He was terrorizing all of you.” He doesn’t respond to that. “But your sister always seemed like she had a good relationship with him, sort of.”

“That’s not uncommon.”

“And when he died—“ He looks at me again.

“Somebody had to take his place. There’s a villain in every family Justin, just like a comic book. And if there isn’t one, people create one. Never underestimate the lengths that someone will go to mold you into who they need you to be—even people who think they love you, even your family.”

“You’re nothing like your father.” I put my fork down. Even if they think you are or think that they want you to be.

“You didn’t know him. I’m more like him than you’ll ever know.”

“I’ll never believe that, not in a million years.” He’s looking at me differently now.

“I hope I never fuck up and show you. Here, finish this.” He empties our second bottle of wine into my glass.

“You can have the rest of my asparagus. I’m going to have dessert.”

“Okay.” He eats them off of my plate. “That’s not the table leg Justin.”

“I know.”

For a second, I thought the candle on our table was going to go out. Audrey comes back a few minutes later to offer us dessert. Brian tells her to “bring him one of everything chocolate.”

“I’ll be back with the dessert menu in a second sir.” She smiles at me, not Brian, and walks away.

“I think Ashley likes you.”

“Her name is Audrey, you moron. She’s wearing a name tag.”

“I think Audrey has a crush on you. Do you care if I step outside and smoke?” I’d go with him, but I think he wants to be by himself for a few minutes.

“I don’t mind. It’ll give me some private time with Ashley.” He squeezes my shoulder after he stands up, and I watch him walk through the lobby and out the side door. Audrey returns with my dessert menu and clears everything else off of the table. I can see Brian outside, and I watch him for a few seconds, remembering when I would’ve stared at him the entire time he was out there, so afraid that I was going to miss something—like everything I ever got from him was either something I stole or something he didn’t want me to have. I don’t feel like that anymore.

I open the dessert menu and try to figure out what I want, glancing up at the door again after I decide. He’s gone. The candle on our table finally goes out. I don’t have anything on me to re-light it. I am out of water, so I chew the ice.

I jump in my chair when I feel his ice cold fingers on my neck, his cold lips on my ear. “Did you have a good time with Ashley?”

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs at me, and then immediately composes himself as he sits down.

“Don’t look now, but here comes your girlfriend.”

“Did you decide what you’d like?” Brian is making faces at me and mouthing: She likes you.

“I think I want this chocolate peanut butter cheesecake. Is it good?” That is definitely not the table leg.

“Oh, it’s very good sir. I think you’ll really like it.” She turns to Brian. “Would you like anything for dessert sir?” I grab his foot under the table and threaten to poke him with my fork.

“Oh, I’m having him.” He takes the dessert menu from me, ever so politely, and hands it to her. “To go.”

CHAPTER 11.1—DELETED SCENE—ARRIVAL—TED’S POV

Author’s notes: This was the original arrival of Temmett at the hotel a little before 2:00 pm on Saturday. What you wouldn’t know at this point in the story, but I will go ahead and tell you is that they are dressed as The Captain and Tenille. One guess as to who is Tenille. The concept I was going for had something to do with Shop Around, and it would’ve worked beautifully if I was writing a television show (ahem) and not fanfic. Spare yourself the trouble of commenting on my retardedness. It’s been done.

Feel free to comment with errors. I don't burden my betas with these.

TED'S POV
1:47 pm

“Emmett, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Shut up Teddy and wave to the nice people. Act like a gentleman. You’re dressed like one.”

“I’m dressed like the last remaining fan of The Love Boat who just happens to be escorting the most hideous cruise director anyone has every seen. What the fuck are all these people doing here anyway?”

“Maybe they’re all here to see Brian profess his love to Justin. That would draw a crowd anywhere.” He gasps. “Oh my god. Do you think that’s it? Do you think these people know that Brian’s finally gone head-over-heels for Justin?”

My eyes cannot roll any farther back into my head without getting stuck.

“Em, do these people look like the kind of people who would be overly thrilled at that type of news? I think it must be some type of church thing. These people look overwhelmingly celibate.”

“How can you tell?”

“They look like me.” We’re finally at the entrance. “Look, I’m going to go over and tell these valets that Paul is coming and to be looking for him.”

“Don’t bother, Teddy, there he is.” I hide behind a column as Emmett waves to Paul. For some reason, watching him harass the valets in his pink dress and white pumps is just too much for me right now. Oh god, he’s making a spectacle of himself.

“Excuse me boys, excuse me. This gentleman over here, you see him? He has to get in here. He has to unload a few things, and then you boys can move his truck out of the way. I’m going to need that whole busload of church ladies to go praise Jesus somewhere else for just a minute. Okay? Thank you.” I think he just gave each of the valets a dollar. “Here’s a little something for your trouble.” I’m going to make a run for it. “Teddy, get over here and help him. A good escort never leaves his lady’s side.”

Brian is going to kill me and fire me all in the same day.

CHAPTER 11.2—DELETED SCENE—DESIRE—BRIAN’S POV-NC-17

Author’s notes: This was the original scene that happened right after Temmett and Paul left the suite after the fashion show. While I like this scene, the tone was completely WRONG for EAO, and I honestly have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote. Okay, that’s a lie. I know exactly what I was thinking. Anyway………….

BRIAN'S POV
3:23 p.m.

“I think that was the fastest and most expensive shopping trip I’ve ever been on.” Our suite is suddenly empty again of everything, but me and him.

“It’s gonna have to last you for a while.” We are maybe three feet inside our door when I push him up against the wall, my kiss forceful, my embrace too tight, my free hand wedged between his legs.

“Uh.” The air escapes from his lungs. My grip on him is so strong that his feet almost come off the floor. The only images I can see in my head are quick flashes of my hand undoing his jeans, sliding inside his briefs, and stroking him over and over again. He hardens under my touch. I half walk him, half carry him over to the long sofa, giving him an affectionate order in his ear before I turn him around and bend him over.

“Get them down, Justin.”

He fumbles with his jeans the best he can, and I end up helping him, yanking them down the rest of the way. The only nice thing about having to stop and sheath myself is that it gives me time to admire his perfect ass. I reach into the front pocket of his jeans and pull him up a little to whisper in his ear:

“You’re so lucky you have lube in your jeans.” He braces himself against the sofa as I line up outside his hole, his feet barely touching the floor as I lift his hips up a little. He realizes the lube wasn’t for him as I tighten my grip . He bites his lip and closes his eyes before I’m even inside. I slide my hands lower and spread him apart.

He cries out in pain when I push my way in. I loosen my grip, letting his feet touch the floor, the weight of his body increasing the friction between us, deepening me, quickening my pace. My body lies on top of his, clutching him with one arm, as I fuck him like this. He continues to jerk underneath me, all of this happening so fast and so deep. He grunts and moans and begs for it to be over.

“Brian, hurry, just hurry. Fuck, you’re hurting me.”

Yeah, right. He fucks me for a living. “Be quiet.” His protests makes me come in a heartbeat, and he knows it.

“I mean it, Brian. Please. I’m going to come.”

“Don’t you dare come on this sofa Justin.”

That was just an evil ploy. I grab his dick hard as I shoot, saving this sofa, putting him out of his misery. He collapses over the sofa as I pull out.

“You’re such a princess.”

I pull him up and his pants, and he sits on the back of the sofa kissing me, his pretty little smiling face focused intently on mine.

“I want to fuck in the bedroom.”

That’s always the problem with him: location, location, location.

EVERYTHING AT ONCE--CHAPTER 11.4—DELETED SCENE—NEGOTIATION--Brian’s POV

Author’s Notes: Chapter 11-Luxury probably has more deleted scenes than any other chapter. Not sure why that is. This is the actual conversation that Brian and Lindsay had that was cut in place of the “blow job/hand job” on the bathroom counter. So, it’s a little daddy!Brian. When the knock on the door occurs, Temmett are in drag as is referenced in an earlier deleted scene—11.1. Not important, just confusing if you don’t know.
Justin's off the bed and stuffing himself back into jeans while I talk to Lindsay. He walks out into the main room, taking the restaurant guide with him.

“What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“I know it’s almost two, but I’ve got a small problem with Gus.”

“What. What’s wrong?” I can hear Gus screaming in the background. “Is he hurt?”

“No. He’s been screaming for the past thirty minutes because I won’t let him take the kitten to the grocery store. I was hoping maybe you could talk to him.”

“Just tell him ‘no.’”

“That’s not working. Apparently since he took the kitten in the pet store last night, he’s hell bent that this kitten is going everywhere with us. I’m at my wits end.”

“Let me talk to him.” I hear her.

“Gus, your Daddy’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you.” He takes a breath, stops screaming for a minute. “Daddy?”

“What’s the problem? Why are you screaming at your mom?”

“She says Twink can’t go to the store, and she can.”

“No, she can’t Gus. Not to the grocery store.”

“Yes, she can Daddy. Mr. Justin said she can.”

“No, Mr. Justin did not say that.” Oh my god, I’m calling him ‘Mr. Justin’ now, but he didn’t hear me because it’s two o’clock and there’s a knock at the door. Shit. “Gus, listen to me.”

“Brian, are you expecting somebody?” He’s walking to the door, and he just opened it. Shit.

“Gus, I’ll call you back in just a minute. Let me speak to Mommy.” I wait. “Lindsay?”

“Yeah?”

“Brian, can you come here please?” Crap.

“I’ve got to call you back in a minute. Just give me five minutes, and I’ll call you back.” I walk into the main room and bust out laughing. Justin is standing in the doorway of our suite blocking the entrance for Ted and Emmett. It’s quite a sight and not the sight I was expecting.

“Who is it Justin?” I can’t stop grinning. I’m not quite sure what they’re up to.

“Well it looks like Mr. and Mrs. Howell and their luggage.” He’s trying to see behind them, but Emmett, Mrs. Howell rather, is doing is best to block his view. Ted just looks humiliated. I’m sure this wasn’t his idea.

“Aren’t you going to let them in?” I pull him away from the doorway.

“Thank you dahling. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.” Emmett waltzes into the room with Ted in tow and Paul bringing up the rear with Justin’s gift. Justin looks thoroughly perplexed.

“Brian, what the fuck is going on?” I look at his face and remember that I have to call Gus back, so I decide he’s probably had enough surprises for one day.

“Boys, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes. We have to take care of some family business. Paul, go ahead and set up. And, you two, do whatever the hell it is that you’re doing.” I take Justin’s hand and pull him into the bedroom and close the door. He sits beside me on the bed. “Before we do anything, I’ve got to call Gus back.”

“Why?”

“He’s freaking out. He thinks that he can take that cat anywhere because he could take it in that pet store last night. He’s been throwing a fucking fit."

“Uh-oh.”

“I hung up on him when the shipwreck showed up at the door.” I call Lindsay back. “Let me talk to Gus.”

“He kind of wants to talk to Justin.” Whateverthefuck he wants.

“He wants to talk to you.” I hand Justin the phone. He looks surprised.

“He does? Gus?”

“Mr. Justin?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Twink wants to go to the grocery store.” Justin smiles. I can see his brain working. It’s see-through like that.

“No, she doesn’t. Kittens only want to go the store where the other animals are. She wants to stay home and take a nap while you go to the grocery store with your mom. She needs a lot of sleep. She’s just a baby.”

“I made a bed for her.”

“That was very nice of you. She can sleep in it while you go to the store, and you can play with her when you get back.”

“Can you come over, Mr. Justin, and play with us?”

“Not today Gus, but I’ll see you tomorrow night at dinner. Twink has to stay home then, too, though. She only goes to the pet store and the doctor. Otherwise, she stays home.” I seriously don’t know where he hides his ovaries.

“Because she’s a baby.”

“A baby kitten.”

“Yeah, she’s a baby kitten. We gotta go to the store, Mr. Justin. Bye.”

Lindsay pops back on the phone; Justin’s face changes. “You’re welcome Linds. I hope that helps. He sounds like he calmed down. Yeah, we’ll see you tomorrow.” He flips my phone closed and hands it back to me.

“Why are you so much better at that than I am?” It’s a dumb question really.

“Because I’m a lot closer in age to Gus than I am to you?” I punch him in the stomach. “I’m just kidding. Will you please tell me what the fuck is going on out there?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I’m not entirely sure?”

“No.” He inches toward me on the bed. Ted, Emmett, and Paul are being very patient out there. “Tell me now, Brian.”

CHAPTER 11.5—DELETED SCENE—UNDERSTOOD--JUSTIN’S POV—NC-17

Author’s Notes—The following is another deleted scene from Chapter 11-Luxury. There’s nothing particularly wrong with scene; it was deleted because there were other scenes that I wrote that I liked better and because (as I’ll explain more when I’m done with EAO), Justin’s POV is very different for me to write than Brian’s. This scene opens in the bedroom of the suite at the hotel. The fashion show has ended. Keep in mind that Brian has had a conversation with Daphne earlier that same day about Justin that Justin is unaware of. Justin is staring out the window of their bedroom when the scene opens. It’s starting to get dark outside. Brian is the first to speak.

JUSTIN’S POV
I’m standing at the window in the bedroom, closing the curtains, when Brian comes up behind me.

“We really do have to pick a restaurant.”

“Okay.” It’s the least I can do after he’s done all this for me. I flip through the pages of the leather bound menu portfolio not really caring where we go. “How ‘bout this one? They seem to have a little bit of everything.”

“Okay.” He takes the book from me and goes over to the nightstand. I listen to him as he calls them, makes the reservation. “Justin, what time do you want to eat?”

“Oh, seven? Seven is fine with me.”

“Seven o’clock. Kinney. For two. Thank you.” Kinney. For two. That gave me chills. I fold my arms around me as he hangs up the phone and places the restaurant guide back on the dresser. “It’s all set.”

I walk back over to the window to make sure that the curtains are closed all the way or maybe just to collect my thoughts for a minute and give my hands something to do. He’s behind me again, his arms around my waist.

“Are you that worried about the Christian coalition peeking in our window?”

“It’s starting to get dark. Anybody can see in.”

“I can turn the lamp off, if you want.” The only lamp that’s on in our bedroom is the tiny one on the nightstand. The lights are still on in the rest of the suite.

“Turn it off.”

He leans back without letting go of me and turns it off. Our room is partially lit with the light coming in from the other room, but it’s mostly dark now. I like it like this.

“Nobody can see you now but me, okay?” I turn around, and he draws my arms up and around his neck while I kiss him. I push him into the large wing-back chair by the window, straddling his lap. I sit back on his legs and start unbuttoning his shirt, his hands resting on my thighs. He questions me. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He teases me. “It’s dark in here. I can’t tell.”

“Well then, I’ll guess you’ll just have to feel your way. Lean forward.” His shirt is off, his t-shirt, too, and for once, he doesn’t bitch at me that his clothes are on the floor.

“I love this sweater on you, Sunshine, but it’s a bitch to get off.” I always have to help him; the neck is too tight.

“Ah, thank god. I’ve wanted to be next to your body all day.” I’ve wanted to feel him against me all warm like this for hours. I can feel him underneath me, unbuttoning his jeans, and I want to do that. “Stop it Brian. Let me.”

“Hurry up.”

I climb off of him and kick my jeans off before I unzip his and slide my hand inside his underwear. He’s so hard. He lifts his hips up, encouraging me to move things along. His pants are gone and I’m back between his legs, taking him in my mouth. My hands hold his legs apart.

“Fuck, Justin.” He’s pulling my hair. I’m not going to let him come like this, but I’ll let him think I am. That’s always fun. His moaning gets more desperate. Time to stop. “Ah fuck.”

“Where’s everything?”

“Nightstand. Fuck.”

I hand him the lube while I unwrap the condom and slide it on him. He tucks it beside him in the chair and pulls me to him. He has an odd look on his face.

“What?” I straddle him again. His breathing has calmed down.

“There’s no rush. Slow down.” His fingers intertwine with my hair as he pulls me down to kiss me. I let him take me. “I like having you on top of me like this. You are so fucking hot, Justin.” He leans me back on his legs and wedges the lube out. I watch him coat his fingers. “Come here.” He pulls my face to his again and kisses me, his hand beneath my raised ass now. “I want it slow this time. I want you ready.”

“So do I.” I breathe his cologne as I bury my face in his neck, feeling his hand on the back of my neck as he holds me, his fingers inside me. “I love this, Brian.”

“I know you do. I know what you like.” My dick flops against him as I fuck his hand. I want to throw my head back, but he won’t let me. He’s got my head in a vice grip as he whispers in my ear. “This is only the appetizer. Not the main course.”

“I know, I know.” He’s always telling me that.

“That’s enough.” He pulls out. “There’s always desert, Sunshine.” I swat at his chest as position myself over him, this warm, wonderful feeling coming over me as I know it’s about to start. I tighten my hold on the back of the chair as he guides me down his cock.

“Oh fuck, Brian. Oh fuck.” No matter how much he prepares me, it always hurts a little, especially like this, but in a good way.

In such a fucking good way.

“Suck it up. You’ve got a long way to go.” I grin at him. He’s watching this, watching his cock slowly disappear inside me. I start to stroke myself. “I’ll do that for you. You concentrate on sitting on my lap.” He pushes me down a little, and I feel myself open up. I moan.

That felt good.

“Almost there.” He nudges me a little harder this time, and I flinch right before everything feels beautiful. He sits back a little, just looking at me, stroking me, his hand hanging off my arm. “Take your time.”

And I do, or I guess we do. I wonder what we must look like to other people sitting in this chair making love like this, if all of these people in this hotel today would ever understand what goes on between Brian and me. How the two of us doing this, with no words passing between us now, probably feel more for each other than some people ever feel for anyone in their entire lives. I wonder why I even think about these things when we’re fucking, and why I can’t just think about the fucking.

He’s looking at me, and he knows I’m thinking. He knows my mind is wandering. He’ll fix that. He’ll smile at me or kiss me or touch me in some way that I’m not expecting, some way that’ll bring my focus back to him, to this, and just to this. He always does.

But for some reason, right now, he doesn’t. He just puts his hand on the back of my neck and looks at me as we do this in silence, as it gets darker outside, and a little darker in here, as I try to think of a good reason why I spent four years convincing him that he loved me, so that I could turn around and leave him.

“Brian, I can’t do this.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I’m serious, Brian. I can’t do this.”

“So am I. You’re doing fine. Take your time.” He won’t let me stop. Everything just keeps going. It ends like it always does, with me exhausted in his arms, and him telling me how wonderful it was. I feel him reach for his t-shirt to clean up the mess between us. I rise up a little so he can pull out and then lie back against him. I don’t feel like getting up yet. My head is nestled in his shoulder.

“Justin?”

“What?”

“I want you to know that I don’t think a new suit is going to fix everything, okay?”

He knows.

Author’s Notes: I didn’t want to say this in the beginning, but this scene was also deleted because the emotions moved to fast, revealed too much too soon. Sometimes when writing first person POV, I have to switch settings or reign in my characters or decree that there will be ‘no more fucking in the chair by the window’ to slow the emotion down because if not, your characters will reveal too much too soon. They’ll tell your whole story in own paragraph. See, that’s the kind of gal I am. I blame it all on my characters, and they’re not even mine….. See how that works?

Go on to Chapter 12