MEL AND BEN’S HOUSE - SUNDAY EVENING

LOUNGE

BEN

These last few days have been a whirlwind. With Crone waking up, that delayed things, well, from the perspective of the sentencing announcement since they wanted no distractions.

And then, of course, there has been them getting married and meeting Olivia! She is absolutely gorgeous. Jenny would not stop holding her. Gus almost, but not quite, threw a tantrum because he, as the older brother, had to have the first holds, but we explained that he had already seen her and to let Jenny have a few minutes with her. It was so sweet when he was explaining to Tyson who Olivia was and not to do Frenchies yet. When we asked him where he heard that from, Brian almost got a time out from Justin, and was only saved from that when he reminded Justin, that it was him he got it from!

“They are finally out! Tyson is so happy to have Gus back!” Granger laughs as he comes in with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He drops a kiss on me after he plops down on the sofa. “So, elephant in the room question, you going to go?”

“That’s one of the things I love about you, straight to the point.” I snicker as I pour.

“I love you too, now answer the question.” He rubs my back and I sigh. “I understand, this is your closure too. Your abuse by them, especially him, is more emotional than physical, but it still is just as painful.”

I take a few minutes to gather myself, because finally someone has acknowledged my pain. “It was jealousy and misguided love for Brian, but I don’t understand why he…” I start to cry, and like after my tirade at her during the trial, he says nothing, just comforts me. “...thanks.” I sniff, and take the hankie he offers. “You seemingly have an unending supply of handkerchiefs.” I laugh quietly.

He leans across to kiss my cheek. “And you are going to have to answer my questions sooner or later.”

“Okay. I just want to see him go away, knowing that he can't come back at me.”

“You have the restraining order to prevent that, and it is not can’t, it is won’t. Come on, Ben, I think I know what it is that is bothering you, so do you want to start off or shall I?”

“A part of me is jealous of Brian.” I whisper. He nods encouragingly. “Not for what he has with Justin, because I have that with you, but he still is a pull for Michael, even though…”

“Ben, listen, it is not jealousy, it is anger. It annoys you that Michael made no effort to do anything with you. As soon as you were stopped being a reason to make Brian jealous, which he was not by the way, to Michael, you ceased to exist. The only time he was bothered was when you torched his precious.” He gestures at the glass so I take a sip. “And with Debs, you thought you finally had acceptance, but again you were let down by the people who loved you. First, Peter, then them.”

I nod then rest against him, relishing the silence and relief of finally being unburdened. “So when?”

“When what?” He murmurs.

“When were you going to take me to Meathook and beat some sense into me?”

“Ah, you found out about that?” He laughs.

“Mmmm. It would’ve been interesting, how you would’ve got me there? You know owing to me having several pounds of muscle and a few inches on you.” I entwine our fingers and watch his thumb stroke mine. “Will, will you come with me to both of them?”

“Of course, that's what partners do. Oh, and I would’ve gotten Artie and Mitch to help.”

“Hmm, good plan.” I murmur, then chortle as I hear the sound of a door being opened. “Which one?!” I call out, and at first nobody responds, then we hear claws on wooden floors as Tyson trots to the front door. “Will toss you for it.” I look up at him.

“You fed him the meatballs after Gus said not to. You are on pick up!” He orders,  disentangling us.

“But you put the cheese in them!” I protest as I stand.

“Still didn’t feed him.” He states, remaining seated.

“Uncle Ben, Uncle G...Tyson is pooping by the door!” Gus shouts. We both fly into the hallway and just about get him out. When we come back in, there is a stern faced Gus sitting on the stairs. “No more meatballs!” He orders, then stands up and taps his side. Tyson trots to him and waits. “I am not sleeping in the kitchen with him again, it’s cold in there and Mommy doesn’t like it.”

“No more meatballs, I promise.” I reassure him, trying not to smile at the memory of the first time Mel punished Tyson by making him sleep in the kitchen, only to find Gus and him curled up in his basket the next morning.

“Good night, Uncles, I do love you both, but you can be so silly sometimes!”

We watch them make their way carefully upstairs and shut the door.

“So, no tossing for either of us.” Granger smirks.

“Don’t be ridiculous, get that ass in the bathroom, I’m getting the wine!”

TAYLOR-KINNEY TOWNHOUSE - TWENTY MINUTES LATER

BASEMENT POOL

BRIAN

The chandelier twinkles. Trust Justin to have a chandelier over a pool. There are candles flickering all around. It feels like a sauna but without the oppressive heat. My sight takes a while to adjust, when it does I can make out a float bobbing in the water.

“Race you.” My husband calls out. Still to this second, I have to check to see that this is not a beautiful dream, but the ring on my finger tells me it isn’t. I married him. He wears my watch and my ring, bears my name, and holds my heart. “To the raft, the sausage bally raft!” He giggles, I can just about make out him shucking off his clothes.

I smile and join him in divesting, thankful that we got each other off before our wedding night, because Gus wanted to sleep with us and we could not refuse him.

His skin is almost pearlescent in this light as he makes a perfect dive. I follow seconds later, but he just beats me to it. While he clambers on, I take a look at the raft and start to chuckle. He has taken all four of the sausages, inflated them to the nth degree, and strapped them together, with balls each end.

“Are you sure this won’t sink?” I ask as I join him stretched horizontally across it.

“Positive.” He murmurs, then reaches for a rope and starts to pull.

“Well aren’t you just filled with ingeniousness?” I smile as a drinks raft comes out of the darkness, but it just has two glasses on it. “You seem to have forgotten something.”

“You need to pull this…” He reaches behind me and hands me a rope. “...we had a deal, remember? You boss at work, me boss at home, no matter which one.”

“I remember.” I return, and start pulling. I lean down to kiss him when the raft with an ice bucket floats into view, but it is the bottle of Beam that get his cock a stroke. “My first drink from you.”

“Hmmm.” He runs his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear and smiles. “Yep, that is handsome too.” I take the bottle and he grabs the glasses, resting them on his chest. “Feel free to mop up spillages.”

“Open but do not swallow.” He obeys, and I drizzle some into his mouth, then he shoves me gently in the chest and puts the glasses back on the raft. “Such cleverness.” I murmur as I lie down. The warmth of the Beam, as he shares it with me, is exquisite. I am taken back to our first mapping kiss in Tuscany, and I try to put the bottle back in the bucket; the splash tells me I missed.

“Butterfingers.” He breathes into my ear.

“Back to kissing.” I order, sliding my hands down to his peachiness. “And I will show you how buttery my fingers will get.” The float wobbles as he gets on his knees then turns around.

“Oh sweet lord…” I groan as I realise he is almost recreating both Paris and Tuscany. “...I love you so mu…” The rest of my words dissolve on my tongue as his wraps around my cock. I reach between his cheeks, and twinkling in the candlelight is his butt plug, he sways and sucks in sync. “Time to buttermilk you.” I murmur, sliding the plug out a little. He grips my thighs in anticipation, but keeps sucking, licking and sipping.

I twist it, the goosebumps skitter, his thighs tremble and he growls low in his throat. I thrust it back in like I did in Paris, and he arches  then strokes my balls. I gasp as the stroking and sucking throws off my rhythm like Tuscany.

“Need to be inside you, want to cum there!” I pant, then crunch my toes and stomach muscles because when he slowly slides my cock out of his mouth, he gently scrapes his teeth against the vein. “Fuuuuuuuck!”

“Jockey me!” He orders as he joins me at my end of the raft. Before I can speak, his tongue is in my mouth. He tastes of me and Beam. I am bereft when he pulls away. “Jockey me!” He repeats and lies flat on his stomach, his legs slightly apart...and my gayanalopedia kicks in.

I dump the glass off the raft and put the float under his hips and get astride him. His eyes glitter as he smoulders over his shoulder. Slowly I pull the plug out with one hand and hold his cheeks open with the other. I care not where it lands, just where I do. Slowly I sink into him, and then use my thighs to close his legs.

“Ooooh!” He mewls, and lifts his hips a little more. “Ride me, ride me!”

I obey his delirious command, going cross eyed at his extra tightness. “I. Am. In. Heaven!” I declare on each thrust as he yelps and cries out my name.

“More!” He squeals and raises up again. I grab his hips tightly to keep him still, then move faster. “Ohmyohmyohmyoh...ohohohohoh!” He starts to clench, then grabs my hand pulling it to his chest.

“Christona…” I shout, then my balls draw up to my throat, and blissfully we both explode.

THIRTY MINUTES LATER

JUSTIN

Two of the floats have been discarded. His arms scythe through the water in time with my thrusting to pull us back to shore. Not even changing the tempo to three quick and deep plunges throws him off his stroke. “Being with you, has done wonder for my recovery period and repertoire.” I growl out.

“What are we calling this?” He moans then clenches, cutting off my train of thought as well as my ability to speak. “Come on, Tigger, what are we calling this?”

“Bare-boating!” I cry out, and for the second time we cum together just as his hand touches the marble.

“Perfect.” He murmurs with a rapturous smile, I kiss his shoulder, then withdraw and lie down next to him. “Uh uh...we are not having another stiffgate, let's go up.” He prods me gently, after we get out we walk upstairs hand in hand.

MASTER BATHROOM - AN HOUR LATER

BRIAN

We look at each other in the mirror, and he nods. “What?” I hope it is what I am thinking or that he understands if it is not.

He squeezes me tight. “We have to be there, so you can say fuck you and good riddance for the last time.” I kiss his forehead then press mine against his in relief. “He will think you are scared of what is going to happen to him. In his twisted little mind, he thinks that the fear of that will keep you away.”

“Thank you.” I stroke his Cupid’s Bow. “Want to help me write it?”

“Thought you would never ask.” He grins.