"You're losing your shirt."

"Well, you almost lost yours." Justin smiled as Brian picked up his shirt from the floor and tucked it into the back of his pants.

"Yeah. I still have no idea why he dropped the suit."

"It's a mystery!" Justin laughed. He wished he could tell Brian about his encounter with Kip, but he knew Brian wouldn't understand, would only get mad and ruin Justin's happy feelings.

"I guess I'll have to be more careful who I fuck."

"Lucky for you I turn 18 tomorrow." Justin couldn't remember seeing Brian so loose, so carefree and joyful, and without drugs, at that. He was pretty sure Brian hadn't swallowed anything more potent than a couple shots of Absolut.

Brian's voice grew husky as he murmured, "What do you want for your birthday?"

Moving in close, Justin answered by pressing his lips to Brian's mouth, and was rewarded by Brian's hands pulling him closer, rubbing hard as they kissed. They only stopped when somebody jostled into them, almost knocking them down.

"What the - " Brian exclaimed, turning quickly around, then Justin exclaimed, "Emmett! Emmett's here!"

Emmett laughed, grabbed Justin and dragged him into an enormous bearhug, lifting him off his feet and swinging him around. "I'm home, baby!" he exclaimed, planting a big kiss on Justin's cheek. Justin felt Brian's hands on his hips, dragging him backward, away from Emmett's embrace, and he was secretly pleased - Brian didn't like other guys holding onto him for long.

His eyes twinkling at Justin, Emmett laughed again; Justin knew he enjoyed yanking Brian's chain. Then Emmett went into his Praise Jesus dance, and the whole gang circled around him on the dance floor, everybody happy and laughing, celebrating Emmett's return to real life.

When they were all out of breath, everyone adjourned to the bar on the second floor, it was quieter there and you could talk without shouting. Emmett and his friend Heather were regaling them all with the story of their being thrown out of the See the Light group. Justin turned around to ask Brian if he’d get him a beer, but Brian was not there. He bit his lip, turned back to the group, and joined in the raucous laughter, though he had missed the joke that spiked it. He wanted to run to the railing and scan the crowd, try to see if Brian was dancing with somebody, dragging somebody into the backroom. But he didn’t; he stood smiling like a complete idiot, laughing when the others laughed, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, but determined not to let his misery show.

In a moment Brian was back again, shrugging on his leather jacket. “I’m off,” he told them, and Justin could feel everyone’s eyes swivel toward him; he hated the group sympathy he felt. He tried to smile at Brian but his face was frozen.

“Going home to say your prayers?” Michael asked.

“No. No, Mikey, not tonight,” Brian answered, putting his arm around Michael’s shoulders and hugging him briefly. He let go, then grabbed Justin’s hand and pulled him a few paces away from the crowd. “I have to work,” he said. “Can you get a ride home with somebody else?”

“Sure.” Justin kept the smile frozen on his face; by now it felt like a glacier about to crack and fall off into the ocean. He wanted to stop there, and he told himself to shut up, but he heard his voice saying, “Of course, it’s Friday, and nobody works on Friday night.”

“Justin.” Brian gave him a hard look. “I don’t have to explain myself, to you or to anyone.”

“I know,” Justin agreed.

Brian stood silent a moment more, then turned abruptly on his heel and walked off. Justin watched him go, then moved toward the railing and stared out over the dancing, writhing crowd below. He had been so happy just a few minutes ago and now he was plunged into doom. Not an unusual occurrence around Brian Kinney.

He felt a hand on his arm, and turned; it was Melanie. “He really does have to work,” she told Justin. “His boss, Mr. Ryder, came looking for him this afternoon when we were supposed to have the legal conference. He dragged him off to work on some big project, something with a Monday deadline, Brian said.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t think this means I give a shit about Brian Kinney,” Melanie admonished him. “I care about you, so I wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.” Justin managed a real smile for Mel.

“Come back now, I’ll buy you a beer, okay?” When he nodded, Melanie put her arm around him and marched him over to the group by the bar.



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



When Justin came down for breakfast next morning, Debbie set down a plate with a blueberry muffin topped by a lighted candle in front of him. She said to make a wish and blow it out. Justin silently wished he could spend the evening of his birthday in Brian’s bed. Then Deb and Vic sang Happy Birthday, and they each gave him a present: a new sketchpad from Deb and a Village People CD from Vic, who said, with a wink, that he had PERSONALLY known the Construction Worker AND the Indian.

Justin helped Deb do laundry and vacuumed the living room and upstairs bedrooms, then Jennifer picked him up and took him for a birthday lunch and shopping spree. He got two pairs of jeans and new Nikes. There was no card or present from his dad, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention it.

By four o’clock Justin was on duty at the diner; his shift lasted till eight. None of the guys came in for dinner, and he hadn’t heard from Brian, who was apparently working all weekend. Even Daphne had forgotten his birthday; his cell phone didn’t ring once all day. Of course, he could go to Woody’s or Babylon by himself, but somehow, he didn’t want to. He was eighteen and legal and he wanted to do something wild and crazy. Only, he wanted to do it with Brian.

At quarter to eight, one of the cooks, Jeff, pulled Justin aside. “Sweetie, can you believe it, we’ve run out of fucking mayonnaise! Would you be a peach and run over to the A&P and pick up a big jar for me? I know you’re going off duty, but I’d really appreciate it.”

“Okay,” Justin agreed, untying his apron. “How’d you run out of mayonnaise?”

“Christ if I know, and our condiments shipment isn’t for another week! Here, sweetie,” Jeff pulled out his wallet and handed Justin two tens. “Get one of those really big jars, if you can carry it, okay?”

Justin nodded, pocketed the bills and went into the back room for his jacket. He slipped out the back door and went down the dark alley, then hurried down Liberty Avenue toward the A&P three blocks away. It was cold and his breath fuzzed the air in front of him. He almost slipped on the icy sidewalk coming back, trying to juggle the large plastic mayo jar, and he was pissed when he discovered that the back door was locked. He banged on it a few times but no one heard him. “Shit,” he mumbled, retracing his steps down the alley and rounding the corner, then pushed open the front door of the diner and stepped inside.

“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices shouted, and Justin’s mouth dropped open, he almost dropped the mayo jar. Somebody took it out of his arms and he gazed around the room in amazement. In the length of time, he’d been gone to the store, the diner had been decorated with balloons and crepe paper and filled with dozens of people. Deb hurried forward to kiss his cheek, then everyone crowded around him, giving him hugs – Vic, Ted, and Emmett, even Michael shook his hand; he didn’t see Mel but Lindsay was there with Gus, and Daphne was there, too! And lots of his favorite customers. Justin had a lump in his throat, he could hardly speak.

Then Jeff wheeled out a kitchen cart with a big round cake on it, decorated with colored icing and stuck with burning candles. “Eighteen candles!” Jeff laughed. “Can you blow them all out?”

Justin opened his mouth to answer when he felt an arm go around his shoulders. He looked back to see Brian, who’d just come in through the diner’s front door. With a huge smile, Justin turned back to Jeff. “I’m good at blowing,” he bragged, then blushed; he’d embarrassed himself.

Everyone laughed and Brian leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I’ve got a big candle you can blow, later.” Justin smiled; the wish he’d made this morning was going to come true, after all. Brian grabbed his shoulders and turned him around to face the cake. “Blow!” he ordered, and Justin did, not stopping till every candle was out.

The party lasted about an hour, and it was pandemonium since of course customers kept coming into the diner and all the staff had to work in between eating cake and watching Justin open a pile of presents. Brian had only stayed a few minutes; he whispered to Justin that he was up to his neck working on his project, but told him to come over to the loft after the party, if he wanted to. If he wanted to!

Justin was given a bunch of CDs, a beautiful gauze shirt from Emmett and Ted, a fabulous journaling book from Daphne, a box of artist crayons from Gus, and many of his customers gave him cards with cash tucked inside. He made sure to talk to each person and thank them individually as he gobbled three pieces of cake, and he felt almost completely happy. When the party began dying down, Debbie boxed a piece of cake for him to take to Brian and Daphne gave him a ride to the loft. Justin pressed one long and two short beeps on the buzzer to announce his arrival, then used his key to enter the building. Sliding open the door to the loft, Justin was surprised to see that the place was a mess, with piles of papers on every surface, and drawings and charts spread out on the dining table, the coffee table, and Brian's computer desk.

"Just let me save this," Brian greeted him; he was seated at the computer and used the mouse to close the file he was working on. Then he stood up, stretched, and followed Justin into the kitchen.

"I brought you some cake." Justin set down the white styrofoam box on the counter, then Brian wrapped his arms around him from behind and squeezed the breath out of him. "Ooooph!"

"Mmm, good," Brian murmured, "I'm ready to nibble on something sweet about now."

"Did you eat dinner? Or even lunch?" Justin knew Brian skipped meals when he was busy. "Let me fix you a sandwich."

"That's not what I want to munch on," Brian whispered in his ear, his breath warm and tickling. "Don't fuss over me, I mean it."

Justin pulled away and turned to face Brian. "I'm just being practical," he insisted. "I don't want you to pass out from hunger before I'm done with you."

"I'm not hungry," Brian insisted before a noisy rumble from his stomach betrayed the lie. They laughed. "Okay, okay," he agreed; "There's a carton of tomato bisque soup in the fridge. Go ahead and heat it up while I sort some of these papers." He glanced around the apartment at the mess and made a face. Brian hated clutter.

While Brian was sorting and stacking papers, Justin heated a mug of soup and made a piece of toast. He knew the only reason Brian kept food in the house now was for Justin's visits. He poured himself a glass of milk and opened a bottle of beer for Brian; he put the food on the counter and called Brian to come and eat.

They liked to sit on the barstools and eat at the high counter; to Justin, it seemed more intimate and casual than the dining table. He leaned on one elbow as he sipped his milk, and was pleased to see Brian devour the food he'd fixed. "Cake now or later?" he asked.

"I want dessert now, but it's not cake I have in mind." Brian leered over the rim of the mug as he slurped the last drops of soup. Then he took a drink from the beer bottle and asked, "Were you surprised?"

Justin laughed. "I was totally amazed. I hope nobody took a picture of my face, I must have looked like a big dope with my mouth hanging open!"

Brian smiled but then grew serious. "You should have had a better party, for your eighteenth. It was kind of a last-minute thing."

"It was great, Brian." Justin put his hand on Brian's arm. "Really, I loved it."

Shaking his head, Brian disagreed. "But I'm really swamped with this new campaign, Marty's on my ass, and I need to prove myself, all over again, after that fucking harassment fiasco."

"It's easy for you to prove yourself," Justin assured him, "You're the best. Right?"

"Yeah," Brian agreed, "But it pisses me off that I have to prove it, all over again." He sighed, then shrugged. "Fuck it," he declared, standing up and carrying his soup mug to the sink. "I need a distraction. Are you prepared to distract me?"

"Absolutely." Justin hopped down off the stool and led the way up to the bedroom. "Let's take a shower first, okay?"

"What - and wash off that lovely eau-de-diner?" Brian leaned down and sniffed Justin's hair, said "Mmmmm - onions and grease, what an aphrodisiac!"

Since their first time together, the shower had been a special place for Justin. He remembered Brian’s hands caressing him with the bar of soap, and the first touch of their slippery bodies sliding together, and the incredible feeling of having his naked body rubbed up against the wet glass as Brian kissed and bit the back of his neck.

They pulled off their clothes just outside the bathroom door, tossing them onto the ledge by the bedroom screens, and Justin followed Brian into the shower enclosure, moving as far from the direction of the spray as possible till the temperature was just right. Brian usually took boiling hot showers, too hot for Justin’s sensitive blond skin; he’d actually gotten burned once, then had to listen to a lecture from Brian about making his needs known as Brian smoothed aloe vera gel over his reddened shoulders, back and chest.

“Okay?” Brian asked, and Justin stuck his hand into the spray to test it.

“Perfect.” He moved next to Brian and handed him the bar of glycerin soap; closing his eyes, Justin gave himself up to the sensual pleasure of feeling Brian rub his shoulders and chest with the soap. “Mmmm,” he said before Brian flipped him around and pushed him gently up against the glass. He felt Brian slip his hand between Justin’s soapy thighs, and run his fingers slowly upwards, then spread open Justin’s ass cheeks.

“Oh!” Justin exclaimed, as Brian put his hands on Justin’s hips and twisted him around sideways.

“Can you grab your ankles without falling over?” Brian asked.

“Sure,” Justin answered, suppressing a giggle; he was reminded of a porn tape he’d watched at Emmett’s one night: a drill sergeant making all the recruits strip naked and grab their ankles before taking turns fucking them. But Brian did not fuck him; instead, Brian slipped to his knees and shoved his face, literally, up Justin’s ass.

“Mmmph!” Justin exclaimed, then he moaned as he felt Brian’s long tongue slip deep inside him, making slow, circling motions, then jabbing, withdrawing, and jabbing again. “Oh-oh-oh!” was all Justin could say; his body was trembling and he would have fallen over, if Brian’s hands were not firmly holding his hips.

Within moments Justin was on the verge of orgasm, and Brian mumbled, against his ass, “Go,” so Justin did just that, letting the climax explode inside him, jolting him like a bolt of lightning, and he yelled out loud, quickly letting go of his ankles to throw his hands against the glass to keep himself from falling over.

He hadn’t even touched his cock, but Justin knew that it was going to get plenty of attention, and soon. Brian liked to get Justin off quickly the first time, so they could take things slowly without Justin’s body flying into a million pieces from trying to withhold that first explosive orgasm. Brian never derided Justin for needing to come quickly; he said he remembered being a teenager; and besides, Justin would be hard again in ten minutes.

When they’d toweled off and moved to the bed, Justin was tempted to ask for a birthday favor: he wanted desperately to fuck Brian. It was a touchy subject between them, because no matter how many times Justin had asked, Brian would not give in. Knowing the answer, still, Justin had to ask again. As he and Brian pulled back the duvet and climbed into bed, Justin said hesitantly, “Brian…if I asked you something, as a birthday favor. . .”

“No.”

Justin got to his knees and straddled Brian’s hips, resting his hands on Brian’s chest. “How do you know what I’m going to ask?”

“Justin.” Brian grabbed Justin’s upper arms and shook him. “I’ve told you, it’s not gonna happen. Let it go.”

Absently Justin began to play with Brian’s nipples. There were a few tiny dark hairs around each one, and a tiny patch over Brian’s sternum. They always tickled Justin’s tongue when he was licking Brian’s chest. “But Brian, I need to learn how to fuck, and who could teach me better than you?”

“I’ve given you a thousand demonstrations by now.”

“That’s not the same as hands-on training.” Justin was chagrined to see Brian smile. “Don’t laugh!” he insisted, “I mean it.”

“So do I,” Brian answered, his smile disappearing. “But if you’re serious about wanting me to teach you how to fuck, I’ll give you two options. You can take your choice and I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Huh?”

“One: We can pick up a trick at Babylon and bring him back to the loft. Then I’ll guide you, step by step, one-two-three.”

“No.” Justin shook his head. He knew three-ways were supposed to be hot, but he didn’t want to share Brian with anybody. And if Brian brought a trick home, for sure he’d end up fucking him, and Justin didn’t want to watch. “What’s the other option?”

“A blow-up doll.”

“Fuck you!” Justin replied, annoyed. Without thinking, he grabbed Brian’s nipples and twisted them, hard.

“Ouch!” Brian sat up and flipped Justin over on the bed, onto his stomach, straddled him, raised Justin’s arms above his head and held them there in a tight grip. “You want to play rough, do you?”

Justin felt a tiny electric thrill run up his spine, but he quickly answered, “No.”

“No?” Brian repeated, then suddenly he slapped Justin’s ass with the flat of his hand. Hard. It hurt.

Justin twisted his head around and looked straight at Brian. “No.”

Brian let go of Justin’s hands and ran his own hands gently down Justin’s back. He bent down and kissed the stinging spot he’d just spanked, then raised himself up and told Justin to turn over. Brian lowered his body onto Justin’s so that they were lying face to face, almost every inch of their bodies touching, but leaning some of his weight on his elbows so Justin wouldn’t be crushed. He bent his head and kissed Justin, licked Justin’s lips and slid his tongue inside.

“Want to play nice?” he murmured, and Justin slipped his arms around Brian’s neck, returned his kiss, then opened his legs and wrapped them around Brian’s hips, to bring their cocks into closer proximity. Justin was hard already. It hadn’t taken ten minutes.



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


Justin woke up sometime in the middle of the night. The loft was dark except for a light on the desk, where Brian sat hunched over the computer. Justin wanted to drag him back to bed, Brian needed to rest; but he knew better than to nag. Instead, he slipped out of bed, pulled on his briefs - only so Brian wouldn't think he was trying to lure him back to bed for more sex - and walked quietly over to the computer corner.

"Go back to sleep," Brian said, without looking up.

"Not sleepy," Justin lied. "Can I make you some coffee?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Brian leaned back in the chair and sighed deeply. "I've hit the wall," he admitted, "I'm drawing a blank on this fucking slogan. Everything I think of, I can see Bob or Brad saying. And they are complete idiots."

"What's the slogan for?" Justin asked. He put his hands on Brian's neck and began a gentle massage. Surprisingly, Brian didn't shrug off Justin's hands or tell him to stop, so he continued rubbing.

"It's Liberty Air," Brian explained, "They're going national. And their president wants a catchy new slogan that highlights their name, Liberty. Something 'traditional yet trendy,' if you can imagine a grown man saying that."

"Traditional, like relating to the Liberty Bell? Don't their planes have a picture of that bell on the side?"

"Yeah. "

"Saved by the bell," Justin murmured. "Sound as a bell, ringing the bell. Ringing in the new year. Of course, the Liberty Bell has a crack in it. You wouldn't want to mention a crack in an airplane, that sounds dangerous. And how can you make the Liberty Bell sound trendy?" Justin was stumped.

"Exactly." Brian frowned. Then suddenly he sat up straight. "Ringing in the new year," he repeated. "Ringing in a new airline. Ringing in a new era in air transportation!" Brian fell silent, but Justin could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. Then he laughed. "Yeah. Yeah." His hands started flying over the keyboard, and Justin stopped massaging his neck, took a small step back. He waited, aware that Brian was totally immersed in the computer screen; then he went quietly to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. When it was ready, he poured a cup and brought it to Brian at the desk.

Surprised, Brian looked up. "Thanks," he said. "And thanks for the inspiration, too. Now go back to bed."

"Okay," Justin agreed; he was almost asleep on his feet. He crawled back into bed wishing Brian was sleeping with him, but feeling happy that he'd helped with the slogan. He'd do anything for Brian. Anything. He'd proved it with Kip. Not that he could let Brian ever find out about that, but it was a secret satisfaction he clutched tight inside, and it put a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

“Pick out the one you want, and I’ll get him for you.”

Justin shook his head. “Brian, you are so cocky. Maybe every guy wants you, but they don’t all want a three-way that includes me.”

Brian bent down and pressed his forehead to Justin’s, smiled slyly. “You’re the price of admission tonight. I’m worth the sacrifice.” He laughed at Justin’s annoyance. “Come on, make up your mind. This was your idea.” He lifted his vodka-rocks and emptied it in one swallow. They were standing on a second-floor platform at Babylon, leaning on the rail and studying the men below them rocking and writhing to the disco beat.

Justin knew that Brian didn’t think he’d go through with it. And he didn’t want to, not really. They’d talked about it a few times, always after Justin had tried to persuade Brian to teach him how to fuck. It was so unfair that Brian wouldn’t let him. It’s not as if Brian didn’t do it with other guys. He claimed he never did, but Justin knew differently. He’d overheard things from some guys at Babylon, and once Brian had left his computer open on his cruising screen name and Justin had found out, for sure.



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



Justin hadn’t been snooping; well, not really. But he’d been at the loft, studying for a test, and Brian had been fooling around on the computer; working, he’d said, but from time to time Brian had chuckled, which he sure never did while he was editing advertising copy. Then Brian's mom had called on the phone – that was the first time Justin had ever heard Brian talking to his mom, and he was just as curt with her as he was with everybody else – and she apparently needed his help with some papers or something. Brian didn’t explain, just said he had to go out for a while, and if Justin left, he’d better remember to set the alarm. Then Brian had grabbed his jacket and hurried off.

It had been at least ten minutes before Justin had worked up the nerve to approach the computer; and sure enough, Brian had forgotten to log off. Justin immediately committed Brian’s screen name to memory, then sat in Brian’s chair, and continued to behave very, very badly, breaking every rule of etiquette and good manners and morality by going into Brian’s e-mail and reading some of his messages.

Most of them were cryptic notes, asking for photos, giving the address of the loft; a few were more graphic and, reading one in particular, where Brian described the size and shape of a dildo and exactly what he planned to do with it, Justin felt the tips of his ears getting hot. That was a side of Brian he hadn’t seen, a crude, very rough and macho side that was barely recognizable as the same man that Justin knew. The man who talked tough and mean till he got Justin home in bed, when he became gentle and caressing and never pushed the limits of what he thought Justin was ready for. Even when Justin thought he wanted to do other things, Brian stopped him. Justin guessed he must still be pretty naïve if he could be shocked by reading Brian’s e-mail.

Before Justin reached the end of his moral lapse, he read two messages that totally amazed him. Both were from a guy named UpYoursHard, a name which made him smile until he read the man’s coarse descriptions of how much he had enjoyed fucking Brian and what he’d like to do the next time they hooked up. Suddenly Justin had had enough; he exited the e-mail, left the computer screen exactly as he had found it, and moved back to the sofa, where he buried himself in calculus computations till his heart resumed its normal beating and until he heard Brian slide open the door to the loft. He looked up casually and said, “Hey,” then returned his eyes quickly to the textbook.

Brian said “Hey,” went up the steps and through the bedroom and then Justin heard him taking a long piss. He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle (from the clinking sound of it; Justin didn’t peek) and strolled over to his desk. Justin heard him inhale a sharp breath, mutter, “Oh, fuck!” and then he felt Brian’s eyes on him - but he was careful to stay focused on the book clutched on his lap. He head Brian click keys on the computer for a moment, then walk slowly into the living room, where he sat down in a chair directly opposite the sofa.

Closing his book, Justin stood up and stretched. “Aaaaaaaaagh,” he yawned, then shoved the book into his backpack by the coffee table.

“All finished?” asked Brian.

Justin made himself look at Brian. He was sure his face was blank and innocent. “Yeah,” he said, “All done. Wanna fool around?”

Tipping his beer bottle, Brian took a long drink, studying Justin. “Calculus homework get you all horny, did it?”

“I’m always horny,” Justin answered honestly.

Brian snorted. “I know. But it’s late, eleven thirty. I’ll give you a ride home. Deb’ll turn you into a pumpkin if you’re not home by midnight.” He stood up and led the way to the door.

"Can't we just - "

"Nope." Brian stood by the door, waiting while Justin shrugged on his jacket. He reached out and straightened Justin's collar, then slid open the door and waited for Justin to follow, before punching the buttons of his security alarm.



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



"Brian - "

Brian took a sip of his Absolut and gave Justin a warning glance over the rim of the glass. The gang was gathered around the upstairs bar at Babylon, discussing the backrooms of various bars on Liberty Avenue. Justin hadn't been in any backrooms yet, though he hoped the other guys didn't know that. He kept wishing Brian would drag him down there sometime so he could see what it was like. Of course, he could have gone on his own. He just hadn't ever been in the mood somehow.

"Brian - "

Brian said now, "Don't even think about it."

"Hunh," Justin was unimpressed. "You have no idea what I'm thinking about."

Brian scowled. “I always know EVERYTHING you’re thinking. I can read your mind.”

Justin snorted. “Then read THIS.” He put an image in his mind of Brian lying flat on his back on the bed, bathed in blue light, while Justin knelt between his long legs.

Brian raised his hand and placed a finger exactly in the middle of Justin’s forehead. “Why, you dirty scum-sucking pig,” he drawled, “Poor Emmett hates dildos, he would never let you do that.”

Everybody laughed.

“That was NOT Emmett,” Justin corrected him, “And that was not a dildo.”

Brian smiled, put his arm around Justin’s shoulders and pulled him close, bent down his head and whispered in Justin’s ear, “Was it this?” as his other hand grabbed Justin’s jeans-covered cock and squeezed. Justin slid his arms around Brian’s waist and they kissed. He was vaguely aware of muttering sounds from the others and heard them moving away.

When Brian pulled back from the kiss, Justin whispered urgently, "Let's go to the backroom."

"No. And if you ask me again, you're not coming home with me tonight."

"Okay," Justin acquiesced quickly, turning away to hide his smile. He hadn't known he was going home with Brian. He never knew for sure. Even if Brian danced with him, kissed him, rubbed against him till he was sweating and ready to pop, that was still no guarantee of a ride in Brian's fuckmobile to the loft on Tremont.

The music flowed into a new song, or rather, an old song, a really old disco song, and Brian grabbed Justin's hand and rushed him down the stairs to the dance floor. Justin eagerly joined Brian in writhing to the disco beat. Brian loved to dance, which was amazing really, considering that he'd been doing it for like twenty years almost and still wasn't very good. Not that he would ever tell Brian that.

Justin was disappointed to see Brian pop something into his mouth, a small white pill, probably E. He much preferred Brian without drugs, but he'd take him any way he could get him. Justin was glad his allergies prevented him from trying all the chemicals that flowed so freely at the dance clubs. He'd seen people pass out, vomit on themselves, or end up in comas like poor Ted had done. And sometimes he got slightly nervous, riding in the jeep with a wasted Brian at the wheel. Usually, Brian got Michael to drive if he was far gone, but not always.

But Justin knew better than to discuss drugs with Brian. Still, he couldn't resist taking advantage of the opening Brian's pill-popping had created. He put his arms around Brian's waist, pushing his hips forward and grinding Brian's pelvis. "Maybe if you take a couple more of those things, I'll get to do you after all, and you won't even notice."

Immediately Brian stopped dancing and pulled away, stood back from Justin. His eyes were steely as they searched Justin's face for - for what? Censure? Criticism? Apparently, he didn't see what he was looking for because Brian took a deep breath and relaxed again. In fact, he even laughed. "That wouldn't say much about your technique, now would it? If I didn't even notice what you were doing?"

Justin smiled but didn't laugh. "I don't have any technique," he replied, his voice taking on a slightly bitter edge. "You won't let me - "

"Stop!" Brian shook his head, ground his teeth. "You're not going to start that again."

Afraid he'd gone too far, Justin said nothing. Then Brian grabbed his hand and led him upstairs to the second-floor bar, got himself another vodka and a bottle of beer for Justin, then once again took Justin's hand and led him onto a platform looking out over the crowd dancing below.

"Okay," Brian said, "Take your pick." He spread his arm in a gesture taking in the entire dance floor of Babylon below them. "Pick one, and we'll take him back to the loft."

Studying Brian's face to see if he was joking, Justin was shocked to see that he was not. Brian was serious. Justin looked away, out over the crowd, and swallowed the lump rising in his throat. It was going to happen, it was really going to happen tonight. All the nagging he'd done the past couple weeks was paying off. Brian was going to teach him how to fuck somebody tonight. He should be thrilled. He should be excited. He was a gay man and three-ways were a normal gay thing, and he had to start doing it sometime. Right?

"There's a hot one," Brian pointed at a dark-haired muscular guy, bare-chested, wearing skin-tight jeans, swiveling his body on the dance floor below.

"He's too big," Justin said. "He's too macho. He's probably a top."

With a laugh, Brian exclaimed, "Most of those muscle boys are nelly bottoms. Stick a finger up their ass and they start crying for their mama."

They were silent for a moment, then Brian pointed at a slim young man with buzz-cut blond hair, wearing a sleeveless silver tee and matching shorts.

"He's too skinny. And I don't like his hair."

Then Brian pointed at a short, dark-haired guy with a close-trimmed goatee, in cargo pants and a blue pullover shirt.

"I don’t like beards," Justin shook his head.

Justin could feel Brian staring at him but he pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure that if he looked at Brian's face, he would see a smirking smile.

After a few moments, Brian pointed at another man, tall, slim and dark-haired, in snug jeans and an unbuttoned shiny blue shirt. He was good-looking, Justin noticed; he was kind of hot, actually. He was dancing alone, eyes closed, swaying to the music.

"How about him?"

Justin hesitated. "He's a lousy dancer," was all he could come up with, and Brian laughed out loud.

"You're not going to dance with him, you're going to fuck the shit out of him." Brian hesitated, then asked, "Shall I go get him?"

Annoyed, Justin threw a derisive glance at Brian and said, "You're so confident, aren't you? Hasn't anybody ever turned you down?"

"Nope."

Justin felt sure that must be a lie, but he also knew that Brian really could have just about anybody he desired. At that moment Justin wanted, more than anything, to call the whole thing off, but he didn't know how to do that without looking stupid. He glanced up hesitantly at Brian, who was grinning, and he waited just a moment too long because Brian abruptly turned away and moved across the platform and down the stairs. Justin watched him go, swallowing convulsively, then turned to look over the railing at the dance floor.

Brian approached the dark-haired guy, who stopped dancing, and even from one flight up, Justin could see a slow smile spread across the guy's face as Brian murmured into his ear. Immediately the guy looked up, and Justin's heart jerked in his chest as he realized what Brian was telling him. Justin stared wide-eyed across the distance, then suddenly the guy waved at him, and automatically Justin raised his hand to wave back. Brian gestured for Justin to come downstairs to join them, and Justin thought, "Oh, shit."

When Brian gestured a second time, more urgently, Justin nodded and turned from the rail, making his way slowly, as slowly as possible, down the stairs. He was hoping to get lost in the crowd but it seemed to part for him, as if he were Moses and this was the Red Sea, and he moved forward across the dance floor toward his destiny.



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



They were in the jeep headed north. The guy’s name was Ross; Justin had asked. Brian didn’t need to know guys’ names, but Justin wanted to remember his first fuck and not always refer to him as ‘that dark-haired guy.’ Ross was in the back, leaning over the edge of the front seats, trying to get Justin to talk. He’d also tried to get Justin to sit in back with him, but Brian had sharply told him no. Brian said he needed Justin to ride shotgun, to watch for cops, since Brian had dropped a couple E. Ross said he liked E too, but Brian didn’t offer him any, though Justin had seen the clear baggie Brian had fished from his pocket earlier, and he had several of the small white pills.

“You a college boy?” Ross asked, tickling the back of Justin’s neck.

“Umm…yes.”

“Penn State?”

Before Justin could answer, Brian turned up the volume on the tape player. He and Brian started singing along with Garbage, and Ross tried to join in, but he didn’t know most of the words. Brian parked in his garage and they piled out; Justin ran ahead and punched in the security code and held open the door for the others. They rode up the elevator in silence, and when Brian opened his loft door, Ross whistled. “Wow, cool digs,” he said. “You guys live together?”

“No,” Justin answered. “Do you want a beer?”

Ross laughed. “I’m buzzed enough already.” He pulled off his jacket, threw it on the sofa; his shirt followed and then he kicked off his shoes.

Justin was aware that Brian was also pulling off his clothes, yet he stood motionless as a statue in the middle of the loft. Brian came up behind and hugged him briefly, whispered “You’re okay,” in his ear, then lifted Justin’s sweater off over his head. With shaking hands, Justin unfastened his cargo pants and stepped out of them. He was the only one of the three wearing underwear. He bent to pull off his shoes and socks, then Brian grabbed his hand and led him up the steps. The men were both naked and Justin felt goosebumps pop up all over his body.

Ross approached Brian and tried to slip an arm around his neck, but Brian pulled back slightly. “Justin’s first,” he said, so Ross turned and smiled. He approached Justin and reached for his cock – still protected by a layer of superfine cotton. Unconsciously Justin started backing up until he felt himself back into Brian. Brian slipped his arms around Justin’s waist and whispered, “It’s okay.”

Brian held onto him as Ross came near. Ross put a hand on the back of Justin’s neck and bent his head, started to put his mouth on Justin’s, Justin could feel the man’s warm, beer-scented breath on his lips, before Brian took a step backward, pulling Justin with him. “No kissing,” he said flatly.

“No kissing?” Ross laughed but stopped when he looked at Brian’s face. “Okay.” He closed the distance between them and reached out both hands to caress Justin’s nipples. He bent his head and began to lick Justin, from his neck down his chest, and stopped to run his tongue over Justin’s nipple ring, and bit down on it.

Justin gasped slightly, Brian was usually so gentle with the ring that he was surprised at the mild pain sensation. “Stop that,” Brian hissed, “Don’t bite it.”

Ross raised his eyes to Brian’s face again. “Okay,” he agreed. He bent his head and continued his tongue’s journey south. Ross knelt on the floor, hanging onto Justin’s hips, and slowly pulled Justin’s white cotton briefs down to his ankles, then shoved his whole face into Justin’s crotch, and Justin gasped.

“Stop,” said Brian.

“Now what?” Ross was frowning. “Tell me the rules up front, okay? Stop interrupting.”

Brian hesitated, then said, “Let Justin do you, instead.”

Ross rolled his eyes but nodded. He sat on the ledge at the foot of the bed and looked at Justin, who hadn’t moved. Ross spread his hands open and said, with a slight edge to his voice, “Well, come on, kid, let’s get started, huh?”

Justin felt Brian pushing him gently forward, then felt Brian’s hands on his shoulders, encouraging him to kneel down between Ross’ open legs. Justin gazed at the man’s cock, which was not as big as Brian’s or his own but was nothing to sneeze at.

Thinking that thought, Justin suddenly let go a ferocious sneeze and slapped a hand over his mouth. “I need a tissue,” he mumbled through his fingers. Brian reached over to the bedside table, pulled off two tissues and handed them to him. He wiped his face and blew his nose and then threw the dirty tissues over his shoulder.

“Oh, that was nice,” Brian sniped.

“I’ll pick them up later.”

Ross reached out his hands and began to caress Justin’s neck, pulling him slightly forward. “Come on, baby,” he murmured encouragingly, “Come suck daddy’s dick.”

“Daddy?” Justin demanded, annoyed. “How old are you?”

“It’s just an expression,” Ross explained patiently. “And I’m twenty-five if it matters.”

“Well, I’m twenty,” Justin declared, giving himself a couple years, “So you can’t be my daddy.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus,” Ross huffed angrily. “Just suck my dick, huh?”

“Don’t tell him what to do,” Brian interrupted. “Just shut up and let him go at his own pace.”

“Shut up?” Ross got to this feet. “Who you telling to shut up?”

“You!” Brian answered, giving the man a push backward. Ross’ knees hit the edge of the ledge and he fell over onto the bed on his back. Brian reached over and grabbed his arm, dragged him upright again. “If you wanna get fucked, then behave yourself!” Brian’s face was grim, his eyes glaring.

Justin stared at Brian in amazement, he’d never seen him so belligerent before.

“Fuck you!” Ross exclaimed, pulling himself from Brian’s grip. “Fuck both of you! I’m outta here.” Stomping down the steps, Ross pulled on his jeans, stepped into his shoes and grabbed his shirt and jacket. Justin and Brian stood frozen in place, watching him. At the door, Ross turned to shout at them, “Couple of fuckin’ weirdos!” and slammed open the door, pounding down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator.

There was dead silence for a moment, then Justin looked up at Brian and they stared at each other with open mouths. Then suddenly they burst out laughing. Brian pulled Justin up off the floor and they fell into each other’s arms, whooping and laughing. They sat down on the ledge of the bed and caught their breath.

Justin sighed. “Guess I won’t get to learn fucking tonight.”

“Sure you will,” Brian said bracingly. “Get dressed, we’ll go back to Babylon and find another one.”

Justin whipped his head around to stare at Brian in amazement, and Brian burst out laughing again. He was joking.

Justin smiled but then said seriously. “I don’t want to do this again, okay?”

“Oh, all right,” Brian agreed with a heavy sigh, belied by the grin still playing around the corners of his mouth. He turned sideways and put his arms around Justin, pulled him close. “What do you want to do now?”

“Now?” Justin asked, then hesitated a moment. Finally, he said staunchly, “Now I want to suck daddy’s dick!”

Brian bent his head and kissed Justin’s lips. “I’m not old enough to be your daddy,” he whispered. “But you can suck my dick, anyway.”