Chapter 28 - New Memories.
Michael hadn’t really been into the club scene for quite awhile - not since he and Ben had become serious. He would still go to Woody’s drinking with the guys and maybe dancing at Babylon once a week or so, but since he’d been put on Brian babysitting duty he’d been here every night and it was really getting old. All he wanted to do right now was find Brian and get out of here. The logical place to look, of course, was the backroom, so he started there.
As expected, Brian was reclining on a couch in the far corner of the backroom, two twinks servicing his cock and another straddling him, shoving a respectable looking dick down Brian’s throat at the same time. Even in the dim light, Michael could tell that Brian’s eyes were glazed - he was obviously stoned out of his mind already tonight, which meant it would be harder than usual to get the pain-filled man home. Michael had strict orders from Ted though to get Brian home by 2:00 am so he would be sober enough the next morning for the ad pitch they were making to another new client. So, Michael squared his shoulders and waded into the fray, batting away the twinks and then shaking Brian’s shoulder to try to rouse him.
“What the fuck, Mikey?” Brian slurred out, his unfocused eyes trying to figure out where his trick went but seeing only his best friend. “Where’d he go?”
“He went home, I hope,” Michael told the inebriated brunet. “Which is where you’re going too. So, upsy-daisy, Brian. It’s time for all good little sex-addicts to head home so you can rest up and be ready to fuck the brains out of the rest of gay PA tomorrow night. Let’s go. That’s right.”
Michael led the stumbling man out of the backroom and through the dance floor, maliciously letting Brian bump into the occasional furniture, pillar or bar edge, figuring that Brian wouldn’t remember it tomorrow anyway and too tired himself to really give a damn. Once he had the drunken lout, aka Brian, strapped into the passenger side of the Jeep he jumped in himself and pulled the car out into traffic heading for the loft.
“I miss the Sunshine, Mikey. It used to be so warm all the time, you know. Now, I’m always cold, Mikey. I hate the cold.” Brian was babbling on, Mikey had become inured to the nightly laments and hardly ever bothered to listen anymore. He just nodded and made little non-committal comments at appropriate breaks in the muttering.
“I know you miss him, Bri.”
“How come he was always so warm? Hmmm. How’d he do that, I wonder?”
“I have no idea, Bri.”
“Fucking gardenia didn’t work, damn it.”
“What about the gardenia, Bri?”
“S’posed to make you never forget y’ur lover. He already f’got.” Michael noticed that the mutterings were already becoming more incomprehensible, which meant Brian was close to passing out, which wasn’t good since there was no way Michael could carry him.
“Stay with me, Bri. Don’t fall asleep on me yet, okay. Tell me about the gardenias again, Bri.”
“S’gonna tell 'im. Was. A’ lunch. Had it all planned out with the fucking flower and the limo and the . . . . fucking bitch s’had to show up tooooo early. Hadda plan, y’ know.”
“I know, Brian. It would have been great. Here we are. Home sweet home. Come on, Bri. Let’s get you to bed, buddy.”
Michael finally managed to roll the blitzed brunet into his bed, pulled off his shoes and socks but didn’t bother with the rest, just pulling the duvet over all. As he turned off the lights and headed for the door, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed Ted. He figured if he had to be up this late for the umpteenth night in a row, Ted could get up too. They had to figure out a better solution to the Brian problem than this. Michael needed a night or two off and Brian - well, Brian needed a few nights off himself or, at this rate, he wouldn’t last out the month.
“It’s me, Ted. We’ve got to talk. I can’t keep this up. . . . Yeah, I got him home and in bed but I doubt he’ll be functional until noon tomorrow - this was the most wasted I think I’ve ever seen him and that’s saying a lot. Meet me at the Diner tomorrow for breakfast, okay. I’ll bring Ben and maybe we can brainstorm some solution to this crap. . . . Yeah. See ya then!”
++++++++++++++++++
Justin didn’t know why he bothered to even look at the phone when it rang anymore. It was always ‘Adonis’ calling and he never took those calls. So, he was surprised when this time, the caller ID showed that Ted was on the line. Justin hesitated but in the end decided to answer.
“Hello, Ted.” Justin said his voice devoid of all emotion.
“Justin. I’m glad I got ahold of you,” Ted started off the conversation light. “How’s it going? We haven’t heard from you in awhile.”
“What do you need, Ted?” Justin wasn’t in the mood for chatting this morning.
“Well, right to business, eh? I was hoping I could maybe talk you into coming back to work. We’re absolutely swamped and Grand Central has been asking for you - they really don’t like Phil’s take on your ideas. It would be a huge help if you could take the campaign back over. Even if it was only temporary, you know.” Ted was pleading now, honestly wanting Justin back for his art skills, even if that wasn’t his primary reason for calling.
“I don’t know, Ted. Can’t Brian handle it?” Justin was proud of himself that he could say the name in a steady voice.
“Not so much,” Ted wasn’t sure how much to tell Justin. “He’s been a little out of it lately.”
“Is he okay?” Ted heard the first sign of emotion from Justin so far in this conversation.
Ted decided to risk it all and just be honest with Justin. The man had been through more than enough already and deserved the respect of Ted’s honesty. Ted didn’t think he was going to like it though.
“Well, that depends on your definition of okay,” Ted began. “He’s not dead yet, so I guess that’s something. But, I haven’t seen him completely sober since you left, either. At this rate I give his liver less than six months.”
“Fuck, Ted. You’re not fucking serious, are you?” Justin started to become concerned, but then, a little worm of doubt found its way into his heart and made him doubtful. “Anyway, it’s not really my problem anymore. Brian is a big boy. He’ll get over it. I gotta go, Ted. Sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come back.”
“What did he say,” asked Michael who was sitting in the Diner booth across from Ted.
“Didn’t work. I thought I almost had him, but, well. . . Got a Plan B?” Ted asked.
++++++++++++++++++++
“Justin. You’ve got mail,” Jennifer shouted up the stairs to her son.
She’d received a large package of Justin’s mail this morning, forwarded by Brian. She was more than curious about what was in the large packet. Jennifer had been tempted to open it without Justin, just to make sure that there wasn’t anything that would hurt him more than he’d already been hurt, but she stopped herself. She knew Justin wouldn’t appreciate his mother meddling and she didn’t want to drive him away. Their relationship had been rocky enough since he’d returned.
Justin eventually came dragging down the stairs, still wearing the same sweats he’d been in for three days now. Jennifer bit her tongue to stop herself from nagging at him. Justin sat down at the breakfast table and Jennifer handed him a mug of coffee and sat the large package down in front of him. Then she sat down herself across from him, waiting while he stared at the large envelope without touching it.
Several sips of coffee later, Justin finally picked the envelope up, holding it in his right hand, still staring at the address. With the other hand, he gently brushed across the front, as if trying to erase the return address in the upper left corner. Apparently gaining enough resolve from this action, he flipped the envelope over and ripped open the sealed flap at one end, lifting it to dump out the contents onto the table.
He spread the stack of letters that fell out across the table. Justin thought that it was pretty much all junk and couldn’t figure out why Brian had bothered forwarding it. Then, at the bottom of the pile he saw one cream colored envelope with a bright blue sticky note on the front, obscuring the return address. The note, written in Brian’s handwriting, said only: ‘Hope this is what you were waiting for. B’.
Justin pulled the note off the envelope and saw the return address: Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts.
He turned the envelope over and started to slip a finger under the flap, but hesitated and then turned it over again to look at it, trying to convince himself it was real.
“What is it Justin?” his mother asked, concerned by her son’s reaction to this one letter.
Justin didn’t say anything. He just handed the letter over to Jennifer, biting his lower lip while she read the return address also.
“PIFA? What’s this about, honey? Do you want me to open it for you?” Jennifer asked, noting Justin’s nervous nod. “My word, Justin,” Jennifer said after opening the envelope and quickly scanning the contents of the letter. “You’ve been accepted to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. This is wonderful. I had no idea you’d applied.”
“I didn’t,” Justin whispered. “I was going to but . . . I never got a chance to send in the application. Brian must have . . ."
“Look at this, Justin,” Jennifer went on, ignorant of the conflict Justin was experiencing. “It says there were over a thousand applicants and you were one of only seventy-five accepted for next year’s freshman class. This is so great, honey. I’m so proud of you.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Justin said as he stood up, turned his back on his mother and the letter and plodded back up the stairs to his bed.
+++++++++++++++++++++
The blue florescent lights over the head of the bed made everything glow in eerie shades of blue and grey. Justin opened his eyes wider and looked around at the familiar scene, but as he looked, the bare unfinished ceiling of the loft began to morph into a much brighter, intricately painted ceiling, with carved molding and a stained glass dome over the bed. Justin stretched and rolled over onto his belly and felt someone stepping onto the bed and before kneeling down to straddle him. He could feel strong hands massaging him, fondling and squeezing the globes of his ass, then a mouth biting at him through the tight cotton briefs he was wearing. The talented teeth then clamped onto the elastic waistband and carefully tugged at the material until they had worried the boy’s underwear all the way down to his ankles, kissing and licking the nearby skin as they went.
Justin felt himself being turned over onto his back and looked up to finally glimpse the face of his mystery lover. The dark haired, hazel eyed sensuous man still kneeling playfully over him smiled down with his exquisite lips and then the man reached down to taste the crushed-coral lips of his young lover, unrestrainedly biting at the pouty lower one, sucking it into his mouth to taste anew the seductive sweetness of that tempting mouth.
“Brian,” Justin heard his own voice moan. “I want to touch you.”
Justin listened in rapture to the breathy, melodious laughter of his lover, who stood up and was then unclothed, his glorious, lean, muscular body glowing in the blue light. Brian stepped back up on the bed, towering over Justin, lowered himself into position again straddling the younger man’s thighs, and reached down with his right hand to firmly stroke Justin’s hard, leaking cock. Justin felt the small jolts of electricity coursing through his body and let himself go, his wriggling hips and thrashing head picking up their tempo.
Justin felt himself being rolled over again, and Brian’s flat wet tongue moving steadily over his swelling rump and immediately down into his crack, straight to the tight, roseate pucker with an electrifying touch, causing Justin to gasp and moan. Justin reveled in the sensation of sucking and licking around the rim of his pucker and then felt the tip of a tongue pushing into the tight, warm hole, thrusting deeper and faster over and over again. Justin then heard his lover’s voice whispering, “cum for me, Sunshine. It’s time” as he joyfully obeyed, convulsing while his orgasm rolled through his body, hot, sticky cum coating the sheets and his own abdomen.
Justin could see the lust and passion in Brian’s eyes and something more, a desire to care for him, protect him, cherish him. Justin blinked, trying to reconcile the emotions he was seeing on Brian’s face with something else he couldn’t quite remember, but when Brian bent to kiss him one more time, he let the nagging thought go. He was now on his back again, with Brian lying on top of him, feeling the exquisite sensation of their skin touching all along their lengths, when the skilled and caring older man smiled at him with such tenderness, Justin felt almost like crying.
“It’s time, Sunshine, for your first time,” the melodious voice purred. “I will make this the best night of your life. I want you to always remember this, remember me. You are so beautiful, you are my treasure, Sunshine. Please don’t forget me, don’t ever leave me. You are MINE.”
Justin experienced the exquisite pain and joy once again as his lover entered him for the first time. Then he was moaning as Brian was rocking and thrusting into him, as gently as he could at first, adjusting his angle so that each stroke would brush over and stimulate Justin’s prostate, and increasing his pace and the depth of each ramming motion. Brian was moaning into his mouth, “Damn, I love you, Justin. I so fucking love you!” as the electrifying sensations from Brian’s cock in his ass multiplied, and Justin felt the fire and bliss cascading through his body as he came again, so incredibly hard and for so long that he momentarily lost touch with reality.
*knock, knock, knock* The sound woke Justin from the most amazing dream he’d ever had.
“Justin, dear, are you okay? I heard you talking in your sleep, honey,” Jennifer stuck her head in Justin’s bedroom and questioned her son.
“Uhhh. Ummm. I’m fine Mom. Sorry if I disturbed you,” Justin stuttered, blushing furiously and wishing she would please just go, quickly.
“Okay, sweetie,” the loving mother said. As she pulled the door closed behind her, she added, “just let me know if you need anything.”
“Just dry sheets,” Justin muttered, rolling out of the puddle of cum that drenched his stomach, his hip and most of the sheet under his body.
As he was pulling the soiled sheets off his bed, Justin couldn’t help but reflect that this new memory that Brian had given him, the memory of his first time, was better than all the memories that he’d lost and then later reclaimed. For a brief moment, he regretted that he and Brian wouldn’t be making any more new memories together.