Chapter 13 - A Return To The Routine?
When Brian awoke on Sunday morning, he discovered a fresh pot of coffee brewing and his fridge fully stocked with a variety of healthy foods. His ordinary wheat bread had been replaced with something called 'Dave's Killer Bread' that claimed to have 16 whole grains, 5 seeds, organic whole wheat flour and added B-Vitamins. There was a small yellow sticky note on top of the bag of bread that explained some shit about Folic Acid, which Brian immediately crumpled up and tossed into the trash.
On the counter next to the coffee pot, his favorite mug had already been set out and, propped behind it, was a beautiful pencil sketch of him sleeping.
"Justin!" Brian mumbled, his tone fluctuating somewhere between aggravation and admiration.
Remarkably, Brian felt pretty good this morning. He wasn't nauseous at all and his energy level seemed back to normal. It was probably just the residual effects of the pain killers and saline infusion from the hospital, along with twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, but he'd take what he could get. He poured himself a big cup full of coffee, added a large helping of sugar and decided he was even up for a shower.
When his morning ablutions were complete, Brian was happy to note that he was still feeling pretty okay. Once he was clean and dressed in his typical stylish casual clothing, he finally felt like himself again. He decided it was time to put in a long delayed appearance with the gang, so he skipped out on the 'Killer' bread and headed for the Diner.
"To paraphrase the great Mark Twain, 'Rumors of my death - or in this case, alcohol addiction - have been greatly exaggerated'," Brian exclaimed loudly as he strode boldly into the Diner twenty minutes later to a round of wild applause.
He regally sauntered over to the booth where his friends were waiting and signaled for Emmett to move so he could be seated more comfortably. The cheerful queen just clapped more loudly and immediately vacated his spot. Brian nodded genially to the assembled hosts - namely, Michael, love-interest Dr. Dave and Theodore. Emmett moved around and squished in with Michael and Dave so that King Kinney would have space.
"Briannnn, where have you been," Michael started in immediately on his patented Best Friend rant. "Why didn't you return any of my calls?"
"Sorry, Mikey. Busy, busy," Brian chided condescendingly. "I've got places to go, men to fuck. You know how it is."
"But, are you okay? I mean, I saw you . . ."
"Of course I'm okay, Mikey. I told you it was just a temporary stomach thing. And, by the way, the next time you start some stupid rumor about me being sick or an alcoholic or anything else, I'll retaliate and tell everyone how one of your balls is only half as big as the other"
"But . . . That's not true!" Michael countered irately. "My balls are fine."
"That's the point, Mikey. I'm fine, too, and you had no business telling anyone I was sick or addicted to alcohol or any other random shit you just made up. Got it?" Brian insisted, giving his oldest friend the look that meant, this time, Brian was deadly serious.
Michael gave in immediately and looked up with his sad face, playing on Brian's innate sympathy and ability to forgive. "I'm really sorry, Brian."
"Good. You should be. Now, enough about this shit. What have I missed lately?" Brian asked, leaning back ready to absorb all the latest gossip.
The gang babbled about inconsequential stuff for about ten minutes. Everyone was relaxed and getting into Sunday Brunch mode with full-on weekend scandal analysis. Michael regaled everyone with an amusing story about how he thought his keys had been stolen but then they just turned up, inside the microwave oven of all places. Brian seemed to be enjoying the chatter, just like everyone, at first. Then, a really observant watcher would have noted that the man's focus had started to drift and he looked a tad bit paler. None of Brian's friends were even moderately observant, though, and the chatter kept on apace. Someone was watching though and ready to act.
"Hey guys!" Justin in Diner-waiter guise popped up right at that moment. "Sorry, but there's been a mix up in the kitchen this morning. Your orders are going to take a few more minutes." Then the waiter tossed out a handful of packages of saltine crackers - the kind they serve you with a bowl of soup or chili. "I brought you some crackers to nibble on while you're waiting," Justin commented, winking at Brian as he spoke. "So, did you guys know that dry salty crackers like this were what old-time sailors used to fight off seasickness? Apparently the starch and salt together help sop up stomach acids and therefore kept them from getting sick on rough seas. Oh, hey, Brian - that water glass of yours looks dirty. Let me get you a fresh glass." Justin grabbed the man's water away just as he was about to take a sip and skipped away to help another table, leaving the gang all wondering what they'd done to deserve the little PSA.
All except Brian. He got the message loud and clear. He would have chuckled at the boy's determined antics, if he didn't feel quite so queasy. He quickly picked up one of the little packets of crackers, tore open the cellophane wrapper and tried nibbling at one cracker. Within about ten minutes, he noted that his stomach was starting to settle again. Score one for the ancient mariners!
As soon as he saw Brian perk up again, Justin took the table's order ticket, which he'd previously swiped off the cook's order carousel, out of his apron pocket and re-clipped it to the metal caddy in the front of the queue of other orders. The reinstated order was up and ready to be served in ten minutes. Justin cheerfully served up the plates to the hungry group.
"Sunshine," Brian stopped him just as he was about to scamper off again. "I didn't order these hash browns. And, what happened to my water?"
"Sure you don't want the potatoes? Just look at all that starchy, salty, goodness. I've also heard potatoes are high in B vitamins. Why don't you go ahead and eat them since I already brought them. And then I'll go get you some more water," Justin advised with mock-innocence, causing Brian to shake his head.
"Whatever you say, Dr. Spock," Brian mumbled as he tried a forkful of the potatoes against his better judgment, but kept on eating them, nevertheless.
"So, what's on the fun-genda for today, Mr. Once-and-Future Stud?" Ted asked with his signature sarcasm.
"I need to hit the gym since I didn't make it yesterday," Brian announced.
"And then tonight, he's coming over for Sunday Dinner with the family, aren't you, Brian?" Debbie strongly suggested as she passed by the table.
"And then tonight, I guess I'm going to Deb's for Sunday Dinner with the family," Brian parroted obediently with a mock-angelic smile for his 'Mother'.
"Good boy!" Debbie patted him on the head like a puppy as she bustled off to another table.
Justin finally returned with Brian's water. He also brought him a glass of skim milk and again smiled meaningfully at Brian as he set the glass down. "Milk is great for calcium. Which is perfect if you're going to the gym later because you'll need it to help build muscle and keep your bones strong," the little blond nutrition guru announced.
"What is with Boy Wonder today?" Michael said with a sneer. "All this stupid trivia crap?"
"He's right about the calcium, though," Dr. Dave added his official chiropractic opinion. "Of course, if everybody followed that advice and got more calcium in their diets, then there'd be a lot less work for us Chiropractors."
"So, Dr. Dave," Emmett redirected the conversation adroitly. "What's new and scandalous in the world of chiropractic care? Any new celebrity patients throwing out their backs?"
"Sorry Em, I haven't had anything gossip-worthy come through my office lately," David kidded. "But I did hear about something pretty wild from a friend who works in the records department over at Allegheny General. They had a really interesting and rare case come through yesterday: A Male Pregnancy. Apparently the whole hospital was in an uproar."
Michael, who had been drinking his orange juice at the time, snorted and spit the juice out all over himself. While he was grabbing a wad of napkins to clean up with, he scoffed, "a male pregnancy? You're joking, right?"
"No. It's real, Michael," Ted interjected. "I read this fascinating article on the subject in Discover Magazine. It's incredibly rare, though. I can't believe there's one right here in Pittsburgh!"
"Oh my! What if it's someone we know? The poor guy. It would be sooooo embarrassing!" Emmett cooed, caught between sympathy for the afflicted individual and his natural love of a good scandal.
The fifth member of the little group, Brian, just sat quietly through this part of the conversation, not adding any of his usual snarky comments. He appeared to be fixated on his almost empty omelette plate. The ugly frown on his lips distorted the beauty of his otherwise handsome face.
"Hey," Justin, The Lord of Trivia, jumped back in at that point with a well placed distraction. "Backroom Todd told me that the guy he had last night had a twelve inch dick! He said they measured it. Apparently he got pictures as proof."
Everyone tittered at that idea and the conversation moved away from recent medical news and onto an old favorite - cock sizes. Justin knew THAT fascinating topic would keep them all entertained. For a long, long while. Brian and his secret would be safe for a little longer.
The man with the big secret took that opportunity to get up and make his departure. He said a subdued goodbye and headed for the door. At the last minute, Emmett vaulted off his seat declaring that he'd join Brian for a trip to the gym.
"I want to get the number of that new personal trainer they have. You know, Scott. I think he'd be willing to help me with a little gluteal workout I have in mind!" Emmett announced jovially, wiggling his ass and flouncing after a retreating Brian, followed by peals of laughter.
An hour later, Brian was in the middle of his workout. Emmett was standing at the Training Desk, trying to work out the particulars of his date with Scott. Nobody noticed when a slight, trim blond parked his tush on the weight bench next to Brian, until he held out a water bottle to the brunet who had paused between sets.
"Ah, yes! The ubiquitous Mr. Taylor," Brian shook his head at the proffered water, but then relented after Justin shoved the bottle at him more insistently.
"Staying well hydrated helps keep your blood pressure regulated, especially when doing strenuous exercise or when the temperature is high," Justin commented informatively.
"You don't say," Brian took a long draught of the cold water and admitted, at least to himself, it tasted and felt great. "Since when do YOU have a gym membership?"
"Since today," Justin averred with a big smile. "Charles, the owner, is trading me a six month membership in exchange for helping him with a new logo for the gym."
"Very resourceful," Brian admitted aloud. "You're kind of scary, but very, very resourceful."
Brian finished off the rest of his water and then went back to his workout, studiously ignoring Justin's ongoing presence. The little blond didn't work out much himself. From what Brian could see, Justin mostly spent his gym time talking and flirting with the other members. Brian concentrated on his routine and pretended not to notice.
Afterwards, Brian took some time to relax in the steam room. It had always been his favorite part of going to the gym. Today, he seemed to be in luck as there was a particularly hot looking, dark-skinned black man waiting for him on the bench in the billowing steam, his towel puddling around his hips and his delicious looking dusty rose cock lying enticingly half-erect in his lap. It was exactly what Brian Kinney thought he needed to get his mind off other things.
Brian seated himself comfortably close to the dark little treat, and immediately reached out a proprietary hand to grasp the well displayed object of pleasure. The contrast of skin tones was beautiful: his own golden-brown skin stretched across the dark chocolate skin of the trick's belly, his pale hand firmly wrapped around the lighter toned dusky-purple-pink cock. The trick smiled at his newfound friend and his bright white teeth lit up his dark face. Brian was in heavy lust for this exotic creature.
With his free hand, Brian disengaged the fold of fabric holding his own towel in place. He heard the trick sigh audibly as the sight of a rock hard Brian was revealed. The gorgeous, dark man almost leapt off the bench at the wondrous sight and quickly moved around to kneel between the Stud's widespread knees.
Gripping Brian's thighs with both hands, the trick eagerly licked at the thick, hot rod standing up at attention in front of him. It felt so good. Brian realized that it had been a while for him, what with this and that and all the stuff happening that he just didn't want to think about right now. He shifted his weight down a bit so that the trick would have a better line of access, then buried his fingers in the tight black curls of the man's head, and applied enough steady pressure to guide the trick's mouth down to where he wanted it.
The flashing bright smile proved the trick's enthusiasm as he opened wide and sucked in all of Brian's fully engorged length. The plump, soft red lips encircling his pale stiffness was truly erotic. The sight elicited more than one sympathetic groan from the ring of spectators who had gathered around to watch this episode of the Kinney Show. As the trick's head started bobbing happily up and down, copious trails of saliva dripping wetly down Brian's cock, more and more of the spectators' hands disappeared under their own towels. The trick's pace was the perfect speed - not too fast but not slow either - and all the stroking hands of the voyeurs seemed to instinctively match the rhythm.
In no time at all, Brian could feel the tingle of pleasure focusing in his balls and he politely tapped the trick's shoulder to let the man know what was coming. The man pulled back, again with the lovely big grin, but continued stroking Brian's length with his hand. Brian gave a tiny grunt and then streams of milk-white cum shot out, painting the dark skin of the trick with sprawling fantasies of dripping ecstasy. There was a general echoing grunting among the onlookers, a brief communal writhing and then multiple cries of release as all around, every watching man shot his own load.
The unfortunate cleaning staff would have their work cut out for them in the steam room this day.
The only observer who didn't seem to be caught up in the fun of the moment was the small attractive blond man sitting on the far bench. His open and easily read face clearly displayed his hurt and unutterable jealousy. But no one was looking at him. Except for Brian Kinney, whose attention had been captured as soon as the blond had entered the small steamy room. And, if everyone else had been fantasizing about the hot black man worshipping Kinney's dick, who was to know that the central attraction, himself, was instead fantasizing about the pretty little blond.