The familiar tinkling ring of the bell over the diner's door rang out as Brian entered. That was followed almost immediately by the also familiar sound of Debbie Novotny's brash and boisterous, "Hey Kiddo. Your usual?" as soon as the Red-headed waitress saw Brian.
"Yeah. Thanks Deb," Brian replied with a grin for his almost Mother as he sauntered over to the back booth where the rest of the gang was already gathered. He slid into the seat next to Michael. "Morning Ladies," Brian drawled to the assembled crew. Noticing the rather high-pitched giggles issuing from the three men at the table as he sat, Brian asked, "what, praytell, is this morning's fascinating topic of conversation? Comparing cock sizes again?"
"Hey Bri," Ted returned, ignoring Brian's snarky comment.
"We were just admiring Michael's latest heartthrob - 'The Continuum'. He has an even bigger package than most of the other superheros Michael lusts over”, trilled Emmet.
"And tighter tights!" quipped Ted. "By the way, how is that possible"?
Michael grabbed the comic book they had all been looking at out of Ted's hands and eagerly shoved it under Brian's nose. "This new graphic novel is so great, Brian. Look at the quality of the illustrations - the characters almost jump off the page at you. Gawd, how I wouldn't mind if they really did. The Continuum is sooooo hot. Just look!" Michael rambled on.
Brian glanced down at the relatively hefty book Michael was thrusting at him. The cover showed a fairly typical superhero-type character with the standard rippling muscles clad in the oh-so-deliciously-tight tights. This one did have an even more prominent basket than most of the comic book characters Brian had seen. Brian's mouth began to water just thinking about how that sized package would translate onto a real live crotch. "Now, Mikey. Don't let Captain Astro hear you've been ogling other superheros. He'll get jealous,” came the expected sarcastic remark from Brian.
With a twinkle in his big brown eyes, Michael grinned back at Brian. "My heart will always belong to the Captain, but that don't mean I can't still enjoy looking," Michael said with a dreamy sigh tacked on to the end of his declaration. "Plus, this guy is really cool. This new series is from a guy up in Portland, Oregon. He does the stories as well as the illustrations. And he's gone with a more graphic novel approach rather than the standard short comic book format. The graphics are amazing . . ."
Brian's attention drifted in direct proportion to the rising level of excitement exhibited by Mikey's voice as he rambled on about his favorite topic of conversation - comics. Brian, instead, devoted his attention to his dry wheat toast, fruit and coffee, while thinking about the upcoming pitch he would be making at work.
". . . He can travel in time forward and backward to save the planet . . ." Michael was still ranting about 'The Continuum'. As the phrase 'travel in time' seeped into his consciousness, Brian's focus zoomed back to the present. He remembered the papers he had pulled out of his mailbox a short time before. He hadn't had time to look at them yet. Brian reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the folded up correspondence from his very own little time traveller. As he turned over the letter, he noted some writing on the back. 'Now show me yours!' it read. Brian smiled to himself and eagerly unfolded the missive, more than curious to see what his correspondent looked like.
A loud chortle from Brian interrupted Michael's continuing diatribe. All three men at the table turned to stare at the legendary Stud of Liberty Avenue, who was at that moment giggling over whatever he was looking at on the paper in front of him. The pure joy of the laughter issuing from their friend was so out of character for the usually taciturn man that the stunned assembly could do nothing but gape for several moments. Finally, after wiping at a couple tears of mirth which had escaped, Brian began to quiet, with only the occasional continuing chuckle. He looked up at the stunned faces of his friends with a decidedly huge grin on his beautiful, but usually much more serious, lips.
"Brian?" Michael began. "You aren't stoned already this morning, are you?"
"What? Fuck you, Mikey. Why would you think that," Brian retorted.
"Uh, because you're giggling like a little girl?" Emmet ventured.
"I don't giggle, Emmet, I laugh in a very genteel manner! An acquaintance was supposed to send me a picture of himself," Brian began to explain. "But, instead he sent me this 'self portrait'." Breaking out into another spurt of laughter, Brian turned the papers he was holding around to show the other three men at the table.
Almost as one, three jaws dropped and three cocks started to harden. The 'self portrait' on display turned out to be an exquisite charcoal drawing of a beautiful, very nicely proportioned and fully erect cock. The fine details of the portrait showed the artist's lower, lightly muscled, smooth torso and narrow hips, a thatch of curly pubes, with that glorious appendage nestled within, and below, the subject's well shaped scrotum elegantly displayed next to a set of toned, strong thighs. The amount of detail in the drawing was amazing; Brian could see every single hair, the pulsing veins on the shaft of the absolutely scrumptious dick, even a small bead of pre-cum seeping out of the narrow slit at the tip looking like it had been frozen in time just as it was about to drip down the engorged head of one of the most delicious looking cocks he had ever imagined. Assuming that the artist hadn't taken too many liberties with his 'self portrait', Brian had to admit he was more than impressed. Now that he had recovered from his initial humorous reaction to the teasing missive, he felt an uncontrollable lust rushing through his already keyed up frame. Damn, he wanted to reach out and grab that ridiculously beautiful dick. What he wouldn't give right now for those time travelling powers 'The Continuum' purportedly controlled.
As Emmet, seemingly entranced by the glorious sight of his favorite body part, grabbed the drawing out of the brunet's hands, Brian noticed a second sheet of drawing paper behind the 'Portrait of a Cock of a Young Man'. Relinquishing the first drawing into the hands of his friends, who were oohing and aahing over the, admittedly, stimulating drawing, Brian looked at the other paper. This was also a charcoal drawing, simply entitled, 'Self Portrait Number Two'. This depiction,however, was not a repeat of the crotch shot from 'Self Portrait Number One'. It was instead an actual portrait of the artist's face. And, while his friends stared and commented on the first drawing, Brain allowed himself to be entranced by this equally exquisite vision.
The man depicted in this drawing had to be one of the most beautiful men Brian had ever seen. Brian avidly devoured the delicate lines of the other man's slim, long neck and strong jaw, his full, pouting lips, the slightly turned up nose, and the open, honest, full-lashed eyes. Brian noted each feature of the well proportioned face and how they all coalesced into one inherently perfect whole. Above a fairly high forhead, a shock of short hair stood up on end with the longer forelock gelled in a sort of twist, giving the face that proto-typical, clean-cut, All-American Boy look. 'What color is that hair', Brian mused to himself. 'And those intense eyes, what color are they? The man's cheeks look so soft. I wonder how it would feel to kiss them? And, shit, those lips - they are just screaming to be bitten, kissed, licked . . .'
Brian was so raptly entranced by the drawing he was contemplating that he didn't immediately notice that his friends had ceased their perusal of the oh-so-magnificent cock and were now all staring at him. "What?" he asked, putting his usual snarky grin back on his face to cover the look of awe he had been wearing while admiring Justin's portrait.
"What's that one of? His ass?" asked Michael, as he reached for the new drawing.
Brian, for reasons he himself didn't understand, pulled the second drawing away from Michael before the smaller man could grab it. For some reason, he didn't want to share this picture with the rest of the gang. He tried to convince himself that he just didn't want to try to explain the whole bizarre story to the others - they'd probably think he was crazy if he did. A small voice deep inside, though, said softly, 'he's mine: I don't want to share'. Brian habitually ignored all such internal voices and therefore didn't let this one rise to the level of conscious thought. It was much easier that way.
Applying his time tested methods of distraction, Brian grabbed for the cock portrait, stood up, and announced he had to get going, effectively avoiding the need to respond to Mikey's question or show the others Justin's portrait. "See ya, boys", was all he said as he determinedly made his way out of the diner. He slowed his pace once he was out the door and carefully refolded both drawings as he headed for his car. No one was around to see the slightly confused and tender smile on the handsome man's lips as he slipped the two sheets of drawing paper into the breast pocket of his jacket.