The Pitts had gotten too small for him. There were only so many guys available and a town like Pittsburgh didn't have a whole lot of turnover. It had been inevitable from the start: one day he would run out of eligible tricks. So he was expanding his horizons.
It was Friday afternoon. After a light day at work, he changed into his hottest Fuck Me outfit and hopped into the Jeep, destination: Philly. The city of brotherly love. A smirk twisted his lips. So he hoped.
Michael always claimed he had a nose for men and so he did. He didn't need any Gay Guide to Philly to tell him where the boys were. He just followed his instincts and just after ten he rolled into the Center City gayborhood and found a parking spot near a familiarly named place: Woody's.
He checked his image in the mirror one last time. Not that he was worried about being rejected; however, he did have his own high standards to meet and uphold. His reflection incurred no complaints. He looked as he always did: hot. And not just hot, he smoldered, hazel eyes flickering with a hint of the flame that burned inside. Very few people ever saw the fire within. He kept his passions concealed. To the world he was cool, calm, collected, sometimes cold. Even when he was fucking, he remained somewhat detached, not from the act itself, but from the person he was with. Satisfied with his appearance, he locked the Jeep and headed for the bar.
The bouncer let him pass with a look. Which he returned. The guy was hot, doable. But it was early. No point in settling yet. Not until he had a look around, surveyed the pickings.
Heading into a new bar, a new club, he was always beset with the feeling that he was about to embark upon a journey to a strange, new world; that, like a thirteenth century explorer, he was headed into the unknown. Here be monsters. Fabulous, grotesque, fantastical. Anything could happen.
The second he walked inside, he knew where he was: in ever gay bar in every big city in the world. Nothing new. He glanced upstairs towards the second story dance floor. Hard bodies gyrating, minds a whirl on E, Special K, crystal meth, take your pick. Negotiating spaces. Come closer. Go away. Touch me. Leave me alone. He spoke their language. As in Babylon, he swept his eyes across the room, making his way upstairs, rejecting hopefuls with a razor-sharp glance. They were nothing special and he hadn't driven 300 miles for ordinary. Not by a long, fuckin' shot.
Stopping to snag a drink, he took up a position at the bar and waited. He hardly ever worked to get some trick's attention. They came to him. Before he had taken a sip, a guy sauntered over. Not bad. They played the usual game: checked each out from top to bottom, weighed their options, then waited to see who would make the first move. Brian didn't really care. He could do better. Finally the guy, who was definitely into him, spoke.
Brian took his drink with him. No more than he moved, he could drink and dance. The guy was a lot more active and Brian let him bop around him. In the middle of the second song, Brian shook his head and walked away. This guy wasn't it. He could hear him shout, "Asshole!" and grinned. It was the perpetual call of the loser.
Since there wasn't a lot going on upstairs, he headed back down. He was just about to dismiss this trip as an abysmal failure when he spotted something interesting. Perched on a stool at the bar. Blond hair and, as the trick turned his head, blue eyes. But what Brian had noticed first was his ass. It was perfect or as perfect as he'd ever seen. A little young but he wasn't planning on settling down, he was only wanting to fuck around. And that twink looked like he could last all night. Seemed he'd found his something special.
He saw the guy walking towards him and knew immediately that he was the best thing in the place. Tall, slender, chestnut hair, and, as he got closer, he saw that his eyes were hazel. Dressed in black, his body like a shadow flickering under neon lights. He was hot as hell. And here he was in his old blue jeans and his white fcuk tee-shirt. Granted he knew his outfit showcased his ass, easily his best feature. Until you saw him smile. He didn't bother pretending that he hadn't seen the guy scoping him out, so he looked at him as he sat down. Waited.
"Holding down the bar stool."
"You don't dance?"
"Tired of getting my toes crunched. And my ass pinched."
"So why come here?"
"Change of scenery."
"Hmm... Buy you a drink?"
"You trying to get me drunk?"
"Depends on how many drinks it would take."
"Impatient. I don't have all night." They exchanged attitude. "So?"
"Whatever you're having."
"Scotch," Brian told the bartender. "The good stuff."
"Come here often?"
"And here you were doing so well. Avoiding banality."
"You think I'm banal?"
"Prove me wrong."
"Why should I care what you think?"
"Because you think I'm hot."
"I think you're an asshole."
"But you want me."
Justin knocked back his drink. "Nice talking to you." Grabbed a passing guy. "Wanna dance? I'm banal," he told him.
"Perfect match." They walked off.
Round one to the twink.
Returning upstairs, unable to get the blond boy's smile out of his head, he searched for him. Found him dancing in the middle of a tight knot of guys. They were all over him, rubbing up against him, fondling him, running their fingers through his hair. Brian frowned. What the fuck?
He was here. Justin could feel his eyes on him. Decided to kick it up a notch or two, show him just what he was missing. Raising his leg over one of his partner's hips, he ground their crotches together. A spark shot through him and he sizzled.
Brian saw red. Little fucker was teasing him. Well, two could play at that game. He slipped onto the floor and made eye contact with a couple of guys who were dancing together. Immediately they came to him and all three began to dance. Soon they were practically entwined and no one know whose hand was on whose ass, whose cock, it all felt good.
Even though he was pretty busy himself with his multiple partners, Justin saw what was going on and he was not pleased.
"uh! uh! uh! uh!" 1
Sweat glistened on hot bodies. Strobe lights flashed like a heart attack. Pulses throbbed along with the bass line.
"and you don't stop"
And they couldn't stop. The music had them and they couldn't slow down unless it let them.
Rushing headlong into a moment that stretched beyond the confines of the club. Timeless. Like tumbling through a rabbit hole and finding yourself inside a vortex. Now becomes yesterday and tomorrow and all the days of the world until the end of time.
Somehow the crowd around them merged, then separated and they found themselves dancing together. Eyes fixed on one another's face. In between flashes of light, they searched for bits of truth.
"turn the motherfuckin' mike up
A man came up behind Brian and wrapped his arms around him, fingers searching for buttons, and he let him, eyes never leaving Justin's face. The hands unbuttoned his shirt and slid inside and drew the two halves down over his shoulders, exposing his nipples, his torso. Brian continued to dance, lips pursed. You want me, his eyes said to the young man in front of him.
"turn the motherfuckin' mike up
Justin turned his back on him and lifted the hem of his tee-shirt. Burning up. Pulled it over his head. Pumped his hips and danced by himself, danced with the man behind him, danced with every guy in the place. In his mind, he's in the center of a seething mass of bodies, he's the sun and they were solar flares. He could feel them licking his body, could feel them inside him, around him. Felt his mysterious stranger inside him. Oh, yeah… He turned, thinking it was time to end the game, and the man was gone. Vanished into the unknown regions of space. Dismayed, he went in search of him.
He splashed water on his face and looked at his reflection. Arched a brow when he saw the twink come into the bathroom. He was pleased when the boy came directly to him and balanced against the sink.
"You into water sports?" Justin asked.
Laughing abruptly, Brian shook his hands to dry them off. Then leaned over and said, "I've soaked a few guys in my day."
Justin lowered his lids until the blue was barely visible. Just the thought of kneeling at his feet and taking a golden shower was rather arousing.
With his mouth still close to the twink's ear, Brian asked, "What do you want, little boy?"
"I want you to seduce me and then I want you to fuck me. All. Night. Long."
Brian studied the blond boy in front of him. His lips curled at the edges.
"What do you want?" Justin asked him and Brian smirked.
"Another drink. See you around." He left.
Justin was stunned. Obviously the man wanted him, he could see it in every move he made, the way his body strained to be closer to Justin's even when he wasn't aware of it. "See you around," huh? Oh, he'd see him around.
Not believing what he'd done himself, Brian sidled up to the bar and wondered when the blond would show up again. He didn't have to wait long. And he wasn't alone.
The guy was all over him, feeling him up while trying to kiss him. Justin had so far avoided kissing him but just as his elusive prey came into view, he turned and let the guy have what he'd been hungering for.
Brian watched them kiss for ten seconds before his brain kicked into gear and kicked his ass into action. He strode over and jerked them apart. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
The trick got up in Brian's face. "Hey! What's with the cockblocking, asshole?" Brian pushed him back.
"It's called kissing," replied Justin and he moved between them to forestall any further contact. The guy hadn't been half-bad.
"Swapping spit was not part of the plan."
"Neither was giving me the blue balls but it didn't stop you from doing it!" Despite being a definite height disadvantage, Justin didn't back down.
"It was your idea to play."
"You didn't say no."
"Speaking of not saying no: how the fuck far were you going to let him stick his goddamn tongue down your throat before you pulled away?"
"His tongue was not in my mouth."
They were totally ignoring the guy who'd been kissing Justin so he piped up, "Excuse me, but what the fuck is going on here?"
"Fuck off," growled Brian.
"I saw him first."
"Do yourself a favor and disappear. He's out of your league." Before the guy could think up a suitable comeback, Brian added, "Besides, he belongs to me."
"I don't see any wedding ring." Smartass.
"Show him the ring."
"I don't think it's—"
"Show him the ring."
Justin reached into his pocket and put on his ring. Brian did the same. They modeled their matching bands.
"Freaks," grumbled the guy but he moved on.
"Come on," Brian told Justin and he pulled on his arm. "Game over."
But Justin resisted. "Not until you apologize."
"What?" Brian nearly had an apoplectic fit.
"For what? I wasn't tongue wrestling with some trick. You were."
Brian released Justin. "Fuck you." He began to walk away.
"Brian?" Justin rushed after him. "Brian! Wait up." His lover paused so that he could catch up. "I was not Frenching with him," he explained. "I'd never do that with anyone but you." He stroked Brian's arm. "Don't you trust me?" Brian said nothing. "Don't you?"
"Fine. I'm sorry." A more graceless apology would have been hard to find but he'd apologized. Justin was satisfied. "Now let's get the hell out of here."
"But I wanna fuck," complained Justin.
"Would you hurry up?"
Justin brightened. "Are we gonna fuck in the car?" They'd had some good times in the back of the Jeep.
"Even better. Hotel." They went outside and Justin told Brian where he'd parked the Cherokee.
"It's in a secure garage."
"Fine. We'll leave it until tomorrow."
"You get reservations?" since it was after midnight.
"I took care of everything."
As they drove to the hotel, Justin laid his head back and smiled. "That was fun." He poked Brian in the arm. "You were so jealous."
Admitting nothing, Brian countered with, "You were such a little shit."
"What about you? You left me three times."
"I knew you would follow."
"I always have."
"My little bear trap of love."
"Shut up," he said, pushing Brian a little. Brian pushed him back and they had a little tussle before Justin started tickling Brian and ended the spat.
"Say it." Brian wouldn't so Justin tickled him some more. "Say it."
"You're always right." Brian voiced a sigh of relief that Justin was satisfied. He couldn’t have taken much more tickling. Besides, he knew that tickling would eventually lead to other things and they hadn't reached their destination yet.
Justin, however, didn't want to wait. By the time they got to the hotel, he was already unbuttoning Brian's jeans. Brian slapped his hand away. "We look slutty enough without me coming in half-dressed." He'd buttoned his shirt back up as well.
"Since when do you care about looking slutty?"
"Since I booked us a suite in a five-star hotel." He grabbed their bag from the back.
The desk clerk looked them over twice. Brian ignored the implied disapproval. "I have a reservation. Brian Kinney." Waited until the guy pulled up his record.
The clerk studied it for a while, then begrudgingly said, "Luxury Suite… two nights. Very good, sir."
"Nothing's too good for my Baby," announced Brian with a grin.
"Pookie! For me?" Justin smiled and blew Brian a kiss. "I love you."
Before Brian could respond, the clerk slapped down two electronic door keys. Said through lips that wouldn't have admitted a subatomic particle between them, "Ninth floor. Room 910. I hope you enjoy your stay."
Supressing a giggle, Brian picked up their keys and nuzzled Justin's ear. As they walked away from the desk, he said proudly, "You're so bad."
They began kissing feverishly the moment the elevator doors shut. Two floors up and Justin was coming out of his pants. "I've wanted you all night. Fuck me."
Brian hit the stop button on the elevator control panel and ripped open his jeans, pushed them down, and dropped to his knees. His cock was hard and ready. He had the lube out in an instant. Justin laid down and raised his legs. Brian pulled his jeans up around his ankles and held his calves in one arm, positioned his cock with his free hand. In his haste, he stabbed around a bit, "Fuck!" before he found Justin's hole and pushed inside.
"Yes!" Justin arched his back and hissed as Brian jerked against him roughly. He was hanging nearly upside down. His hands slipped on the shiny surface of the elevator, leaving sweaty fingerprints. His sneakered feet waved in the air around Brian's head as he struggled to ground himself but it was useless. He was lost. He gave in to the feeling and moaned as Brian fucked him hard and fast. Brian had found just the right angle and was banging his prostate like a drum. Justin's dick wept clear tears that dripped down onto his shirt, darkening it in spots.
Reaching down, Brian grabbed Justin's cock and tugged on it repeatedly as he plowed his ass. Justin screwed up his face, "Ah! Ah!" hands beating against the door and floor of the elevator, and shouted. Cum splattered his shirt and neck, even his face. He moaned as Brian continued to fuck him, quickly reaching his climax as well. Brian slumped against the wall, his dick still buried in Justin's hole.
The only sound in the elevator was their breathing. Harsh. Harsh. Easy.
Separating, they righted their clothes before resuming their trip.
Looking over at Justin, Brian tilted his spouse's head and licked the
cum from his neck and face and then kissed him softly.