Chapter 9

The Bet

Brian knocked off an hour early and headed to Justin's to collect his bet and hear all about the carpet.

He wasn't doing much good at work anyway. He'd been cranky and tired and his jaw was sore and kept clicking when he yawned which he did a lot since he was tired and....well you get the idea. Also, there were too many people there and if anyone came near him (which was a lot) he had to do a double take to be sure they weren't looking at him like he was wearing nothing but his underwear.

However, when he got there, his jaw dropped, causing it to click painfully.

Justin's coffee shop now proclaimed that it was called: The Brick House. The sign over the door spelled out the words using bricks. Red bricks for The, yellow bricks for Brick, and red for House. The two plate glass window were as whole as if they were new. The entire storefront around the windows was now made out of brick from top to bottom: red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. The entire storefront was a brick LGBT flag.

Inside, everything was very neat and casual. The cappuccino machine had been fixed (was new?) There was section of shelving for even more coffees than before and another for a huge selection of teas.

The décor was casual and cartoonish. Everything was cushions or a futon or bean bag chair. In one section was a double futon that appeared to be made of straw but was just painted on to seem that way. A second air mattress was contrived to look like a wooden raft with "bumpy" air filled logs. A third section looked like it was just a mound of red bricks but under closer inspection were brick cushions that had velcro on 5 sides. It turned out you could stick the "bricks" together and build your own chair into whatever you wished. There was another mound of yellow bricks. The straw, wood, and brick seatings were all equipped with pig snout cushions. There was a futon that looked like a piece of bread with a pat of butter on it. There was a large square one near the window that looked like a waffle. There was another, round one that looked like a fried egg. In a corner, a ragged boy with a green bandanna was sleeping on a mound of purple cushions when velcro-ed together looked like grapes.

And everywhere, in strategic locations were circular sections of flooring Some circles were the size of a dinner plate and some only the size of a cup. Beside each circle was a small red switches. A friendly sign over the counter said:

WATCH YOUR STEP!

PLEASE DO NOT STEP ON THE RED SWITCHES

This soon became clear to the reader as near some of the beanbags, some of the circles were activated by the buttons. It turned out that when you pressed a button, a collapsable wooden cylinder would rise out of the floor like a telescope. As long as you pressed the switch the higher or lower the telescope would rise, so it was completely adjustable. Food items could be placed on dinner plate tables and coffee cups could be placed on the smaller ones if you wished. Of course, everything could be retracted back into the floor at a moments notice and Brian learned later that Justin carried a small remote on his keychain that was a master switch that would retract every table at a moment's notice.

In short, there was nothing there that was able to be (or worth trying) to destroy. At least with a baseball bat.

Brian looked everything over in wonder and amazement. Justin looked over at Brian with amusement and lust.

Finally, Brian made his way over to the counter and just asked one word. "How?"

"Internet," Justin answered cheekily.

Brian considered this and then looked over everything. In one day? Even the powers of the Great and Powerful Inter of Net had its limits. "Uh huh.... So how'd you really do it?"

Justin looked over at the poor man and decided to throw him a bone (Not that one, you creep!)

"Why don't we discuss things over a cup of Earl Grey?" he asked.

"You have good shit?" Brian asked.

"Best you ever had in your life. And there's lemon bars."

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

It was a few minutes later.

Brian decided on the fried egg futon, pushed the relevant switches to raise the tables and Justin served their tea and bars onto them. Then he settled into the eggs and snuggled next to Brian and moved in for a kiss.

Brian had just turned toward him and Justin was right there. He felt a wave of revulsion and panic. He recoiled violently back.

"What the FUCK are you doing?" he yelled.

"Brian...I... I'm sorry. I just thought...yesterday...you kissed me so good... I thought it'd be OK....." Justin moved away again, hurt and confused.

Brian was heaving like he was running a mile a minute. Slowly...in sections, things came back to him. "Oh. Right. It's just...I don't like... to be snuck up on. You were just...there, you know. I've never really liked that. I'm sorry Justin. Really. I remember now. And.... I really enjoyed yesterday as well. . Just...give me warning, you know?" And he kissed Justin, a soft, sweet kiss that seemed to melt away the horrible day he'd had like sugar in a rainstorm.

After many pleasurable minutes, Justin reminded him: "You owe me a date."

"What's wrong with right here, right now?" Brian purred, seductive mode turned up full blast. He licked an earlobe and felt the blond boy shudder in pleasure.

"A real date, Brian," Justin chastised gently, smacking him on the arm.

"Fine...fine... How 'bout the Truff n' Stuff?" Brian bent over to continue necking.

"What...the hell... is a Truff n' Stuff?" asked Justin.

"It's a gay run French restaurant with a back room," Brian said.

Justin considered this. Finally, he said: "Fine. But any use of this "back room" includes only me. No picking up other patrons or waiters or anything like that and disappearing back there or worse yet taking off and stiffing me with the check."

Brian sighed hugely as if it was a huge opposition and kicked himself mentally. Honestly, he was halfway considering the waiter thing but whenever he looked into those crystal blues more and more he'd think: who the hell cares about that?

"Fine. No waiters or other patrons or shit. And trust me, I won't stiff you..." Here he pulled Justin into his lap so that he was sitting on his rock hard dick. "...On the check." And he kissed Justin witless.

And Justin gasped as he felt Brian's hard length poking him with only a thin layer of expensive fabric separating them. Happily, he kissed Brian right back, matching his ardor and stamina.

The two men made out like horny adolescents for a long time. Patrons old and newer were so amused by this, they either backed out again or began to serve themselves and leave money on the counter or use the debit machine and take their receipts to prove what they paid for.

At last Justin pulled back and ended the session.

"I have a flying carpet," he said.

"Well, I know that much! I saw you on it, remember?"

"Yes."

There was a pause.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

Well, isn't there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"Yes. You have beautiful eyes. I believe they're your best feature."

"What? You really think so? I know they're pretty hot but...- hey!!! I mean about the carpet!"

"Oh, that! No, not really."

What??? Come on!!! Where did you get a flying carpet? How? Does that mean magic exists?"

Of course it exists! In fact, I can work a very simple spell."

"You can?"

"Yup. First you close your eyes."

Brian obeyed.

"Then you kiss me."

"Mmmmm. I think I like this spell." They kissed deep, deeper, deepest.

"What now?" Brian asked, when they finally came up for air.

"Oh, that's it. I just wanted to make out with you again." At Brian's outraged expression, Justin whipped out his phone and snapped a picture. "That's a keeper.... What?? Didn't you feel the magic?"

Brian just crossed his arms and gave his best pissed off face.

"As for that other stuff, my lips are sealed. I won the bet remember? I don't have to tell you anything."

Brian sulked and considered staging a queen out.

"Oh, Brian, don't sulk. There may come a time where I can tell you all. But for now, I barely know you, and besides half of what I told you, you wouldn't believe and the other half you wouldn't understand."

"I'm a pretty smart guy. You might be surprised," Brian said.

"Not about this stuff. Besides, some things aren't my secrets to tell. Let's wait until after the date. I'll know what I can tell you by then."

"Fine. We'll table this discussion till after the date. But I will expect...more from you then. Not this evasive shit."

Agreed."

There was a comfortable silence for a while and then Brian said, "You know, if you can do all this in a single day, why stop here?"

"What do you mean?"

Well, it's one thing to pooch around with this tea and scone watering hole but it's still relatively small potatoes and will require your constant attention. And from the front, I gather you want this to be an LGBT friendly place but how many people are you going to get in here like that with the day crowd? And what about the punks? The trannies? The leather folk? Trust me, no self respecting leather daddy would EVER come in here to use...one of ... these..." Brian picked up a silver stirring spoon, one of those with an impossible teeny spoon part. It was one of those tea spoons whose sole existence was to stir and that's it. "Besides, we've got Debbie and the diner. And speaking of the diner, I love her and all but....she's been working there her entire life. Do you really want to end up like Debbie?"

"Hmmmm....good point," murmured Justin.

"Not to mention, the Big Q. Trust me, as soon as they get wind of this little store, they'll have coffee and tea kiosks dotted all throughout their monstrosity in order to drive you out and down."

"Well then, what am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know if you know this but New Liberty has a huge gay community. Like huge. I have a huge list of contacts already and they all have contacts. I'm guessing we secretly actually outnumber the actual straights in this burg."

Justin was fascinated. "So what's your point?'

Brian groaned. So....there's this huge untapped market. And let's face it. We're fags...we like to fuck. But there's only one gay bar and a sleazy one at that, the Truff n' Stuff, Deb's, and now you. And out of those 5, only 2 have back rooms. And pathetically small ones at that. We need a place we can be proud to be queer, a safe place, a place to dance to let loose. Also a place to fuck besides the boring confines of own bedrooms."

What did you have in mind for that?" Justin asked cynically.

"A bathhouse," answered Brian honestly, "A big one. Trust me, if I'm right (and I usually am) it'd be packed every night. You'd make twice...no, three times as what this place would pull in."

"Justin was mulling everything over. "Actually....these aren't horrible ideas. Quite good in fact. I'll have to mull them over."

"Here's another one. Another gay bar. And not some sleazy rat hole like Woody's where all there is, is pool to play and a two drink minimum. Something nice, big, with a dance floor..." Brian got a dreamy look on his face. "God, the nearest big dance club is in Albuquerque and I have to take a weekend trip just to go there."

"That sounds like a chore."

"It is.

"Well, Brian, you've definitely given me food for thought."

"And I'll help you. I'm in advertising, after all. I'll come up with a killer campaign for whatever you decide to do." He gave Justin his card. "Ask for me by name," he purred into his ear, making Justin shiver in pleasure.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

Sometime later:

"I'll pick you up at 7." Brian bent down and pecked a last kiss in what might be called a tender gesture. It might be, but not by Brian. Justin kissed him back and then shoo-ed him out the door.

This time Brian managed to make it all the way to his car before his phone rang.

"Geez Brian, where ya been? I've been waiting at the diner forever!"

"You need to get out more Mikey. The world extends beyond the diner, you know. I'm not coming there tonight. I had plans. I was chasing a piece of tail."

"What are ya talking about?" Michael asked in this dark voice Brian didn't like.

"A guy. A hot ass. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept Mikey. Otherwise, never you mind. And change your tone huh? It's none of your business what I do."

There was a beat of silence. Then...

"The sun was shining on the sea...."

And Brian was sinking....focusing....falling..... "Shining with all it's might......"

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJB

7:00 PM...

At seven o' clock Brian didn't come. At 7:15 He didn't come. At 7:30 Justin began to suspect he was being stood up. He waited 15 minutes more and called the Truff n' Stuff (well, of course it was called something else stuffy....uhhhh.... fancy) to confirm their reservation and see if it could be extended.

No reservation had been made.

Justin called Brian's number but it was his office number. Of course, there was no-one there.

Justin considered leaving a scathing message, but then decided against it. He hung up without saying anything. Realizing he'd been stood up and their bet welshed on, he went up to bed horny, sad, and disappointed.

But Brian had done neither of these things. At least not intentionally. After driving to Michael's, he had been put even deeper into trance, stripped, collared, and strapped down to a large, wooden, S/M type chair. Michael had put goggles over his eyes and heavy, noise cancelling headphones over his ears. His cock was put inside a penis pump that would stroke Brian as slow or as fast as Michael wanted with the touch of a dial. He hooked everything up to a waiting laptop.

The insides of the goggles were screens and piped in a fast spiral with words flashing subliminally fast. The headphones had a deep authoritative voice intoning a trance deepener and instructions over and over.

Michael had added his own instructions to the program regarding one annoying gnat of a blond and had added his picture from Brian's cell along with a mind wipe program to go along with it.

Michael brainwashed, mindfucked and edged Brian mercilessly, for hours. Past seven, long past eight, long past 10 o' clock.

When Michael finally unhooked Brian and sent him to bed, Brian was in a exhausted, drone like state. He was a mind-emptied shell, a state of non-being that would last until he was at last allowed to fall asleep naturally. Michael of course implanted the memories that Brian had come over for a kegger, drank too much beer, and passed out. He had forgotten his encounters with Justin; he had been completely erased from his mind.... erased from existence.

TBC