“So what’s his problem?” Ben shouted at Michael, who was leaning back against the bar, ignoring Michael’s sullen companion, who had only glared at Ben’s greeting. Michael turned his face to Ben’s kiss, welcoming him to a now-rare night at Babylon, glanced over at Brian, and smirked. “He’s fucked everyone here,” Michael answered. Brian glared at the shot in front of him on the bar. There were four lined up, waiting. He picked up the first one in line, knocked it back. “In fact, we’re pretty sure he’s fucked everyone in Pittsburgh.”
“Congratulations? Was that the goal?”
Michael laughed. “Maybe, but *he* hasn’t.” He nodded out onto the dance floor.
Justin had his shirt off, and an absolutely gorgeous young man, long golden hair, killer pecs, was rubbing up against him.
“Ooh, years of catch-up! Brian, congratulations on your accomplishment,” Ben called, leaning across Michael.
Brian picked up another shot, emptied, slammed onto the bar.
“I haven’t fucked everyone here,” he replied, looking Michael up and down.
Michael laughed and rolled his eyes, as Ben firmly stated, “No,” and mirrored a flinty stare worthy of Brian himself back on the master.
“Now I know he’s desperate!” Michael laughed. He ignored Brian, said to Ben, “I’m sure he’ll come up with a new game to drive Justin nuts all on his own, ignore him.”
“Hey, what’s up with the lovebirds?” Emmett danced up, calling to Ben and Michael. He leaned into the bar and ordered a cocktail. Then he saw the line of shots in front of Brian, three gone now. He turned his gaze over to Michael, across Brian’s back.
“They’re fucked up, same as always,” Michael replied drily, nodding toward the dance floor.
Emmett looked. “Ooh, he is just too yummy,” he sighed, earning a glare from Brian, which he ignored to continue talking to the shorter man. “So what’s his problem?”
Ben replied, “His boyfriend’s got ten years of fucking to catch up on his run through the entire population.”
“Oh, the rules, of course. Well, its inevitable fuel will run out at some point, maybe it’s time to seek alternate energy sources” Emmett laughed, accepting his drink from the bartender.
Brian slammed down the fourth shot, gritting his teeth.
“Hey, Brian, I’m not the only one in the bar you haven’t fucked,” Michael laughed, nodding at Emmett. But Emmett went a little red, and his study of the far wall was a little too pointed. Michael looked back and forth between them. Brian raised an eyebrow. Ben burst out laughing. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Michael sighed, turning to look at Justin, rubbing his sweat against the naked chest of his dance partner. “Well, Justin’s got a ways before he gets to Em, I suppose?” Everyone looked at the tall man in the tangerine leather pants, who put his hands up and shook them, shaking his head vigorously, denying that anything had ever happened.
Brian spoke, at last. “I *will* kill you.”
“No need! Brian, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, he’s not really interested in fucking anyone except you, he’s not really interested in these little games.”
“Maybe he’s just not interested in you.”
“Oh, jealousy, such a lovely thing!” Emmett continued. He leaned across Brian’s back, and said to Michael, “Or is that pride? You know, he could just end this now, by telling Justin he doesn’t want him to trick. Justin would cut it out, and since Brian’s gone through all the tricks anyway, it’s kinda win-win for him, isn’t it? You’d think such a good business man would see the perfect deal right in front of him, woon’cha?”
“I see an annoying asshole,” Brian bitched, jerking back to send Emmett stumbling away. “Justin’s free to come up with his own ideas, I won’t get in his way. He’s young, let him enjoy.”
Three sets of eyes rolled. Brian ordered four more shots of 1800.
“Come on, Ben, let’s dance.”
Brian was too busy getting drunk, but Emmett watched as Michael and Ben headed out on the dance floor. On their way through, Michael paused to say something to Justin, so that the younger man’s eyes opened, and his look of hazy pleasure turned sharper as he caught Michael’s words. He looked over at the bar. Emmett nodded at him, and tilted his head to the side, and Justin turned his eyes to Brian’s back.
Brian felt that sensation like a caress, raising the small hairs on his neck. How the fuck does he do that? he wondered, but of course he turned around, leaning against the bar. He watched the kid Justin was, uh, dancing with. Had him the year before. He glanced around at the dance floor. Had him, had him, had him. And that was just the three men closest to the two dancing in the center of the floor. He didn’t need to scan the rest to get the picture. Shit. He looked back at his lover.
God, he was so beautiful, his torso and shoulders shining with the glittering confetti that was raining down, picking up the shards of light from the disco ball overhead, the flecks of fire serving only to highlight the creamy glow of the skin on which they landed. Doomed, Brian thought. I am so fucking doomed. He continued to stare at the young man, not noticing how the eyes of the other dancers picked up on this little interplay, and began to watch avidly. The show was about to begin.
But for Brian, this was all very serious. He couldn’t touch the trick Justin had out on the floor; he was still following the rules. Religiously, as it were. If there was a religion, this was his. The Church of the Almighty Orgasm. Our Holy Penetration. Glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy fucking spirit. Break the commandments and go to hell, hell that only the blonde angel currently shaking his glorious butt on the dance floor could supply. Brian had no wish to return to the existence populated by demons, that was life without Justin. And the primary rule? No sloppy seconds. Well, that was fine, at least until the firsts had become all sloppy too. Now, Brian had to keep an eye out for guys who had recently moved into town. And who moved to Pittsburgh willingly anyway? He had no taste for twinks, so new flesh just starting out did not appeal. Justin had been the exception to that, and what an exception… but Brian pulled his thoughts away from one of his favorite memories, of his first sighting of Justin leaning against that pole from the first night, which made him think of the pole from the King of Babylon contest. He didn’t notice, as did pretty much everyone surrounding him, the way his face had dropped its hard mask as it watched the party on the dance floor, his gaze practically caressing the other man. Justin noticed, though; not much escaped him. He watched Brian watch him, and he watched the way the men surrounding Brian watched Brian watch him. He felt his cock twitch, pushing against the thin material of his pants. The trick he was with felt that, ground his pelvis back against Justin’s. Justin kept his eye on Brian, pushed back, barely aware of what he was grinding up against. He made sure Brian was looking into his face, and then jerked his jaw up, gesturing at him to join in the fun.
But Brian grimaced, shook his head. “Had him,” he mouthed across the space.
Of course you did, Justin thought. So fucking what?
For a second, the thought bounced around in his head. He would never have produced this voice a year ago. But he was absolutely sure of Brian’s feelings for him now, and sex was just sex. He wasn’t asking Brian to take the trick away from him and fuck him elsewhere; this had nothing to do with the guy. Unsure of how absolutely true this sudden certainty felt to him, he pushed up against the guy’s rapidly hardening dick, and stared toward his lover, leaning back against the bar, watching. Yup. What was turning him on was the idea of Brian watching. All the stares around the club centered on him, he knew, were also taking in what Brian would do. Even they knew what the real turn on was. Justin briefly wondered how he could ever have lost sight of that little, huge fact. Huge, he chuckled, feeling sudden engorgement swelling against his cargoes. Coming to a sudden decision, he caught Brian’s eye, which had briefly wandered to the action below, and shrugged elaborately, temporarily dislodging the trick’s lips from licking at his right shoulder. “So?” he mouthed back. Then he gestured at the other man, again, to join them.
Brian raised an eyebrow, and left the four tequila shots where they remained lined up behind him. Okay, what was this? He strutted onto the dance floor, and took position up behind the trick, placing one hand on his hip, and leaning over his back to take those perfect, plump lips in his. Justin responded, pushing up against the flesh between them, reaching down to cover Brian’s hands with his, where they rested on other man’s hip bones.
“I’ve had him,” Brian said to Justin, as they broke off the kiss.
Justin shrugged. “So, don’t have him, have me.” He bent his legs, pushing his pelvis between the trick’s legs, his cock straining through the opening. Brian saw where this was going. He plastered himself against the guy’s back, knocked the intervening legs apart for better access, rubbed up against the ass cushioning his stomach, practically lifting the trick off the floor with his forearm around his stomach, as his cock felt the tip of Justin’s, between this guy’s legs. They pushed up against each other, just the heads of their dicks meeting, the denial causing desire to race through the blood as it rushed to one place. They seemed to forget where they were. Brian was barely able to touch his lover, barred by the guy between them, by the fabric of their clothes. A whisper of hardness, sensation, the pulsation as the underside of just the tip of his dick experienced a brief surge of sensation on the upbeat, withdrawn on the down. He strained for more friction, but was held in place by the beat, as Justin pumped his hips against the trick in time to the music, brushing against Brian below, separated by the body between. Brian, held in place in the crevice where the trick’s legs joined, teased by the cock surging up against his, in a hard caress that barely started to satisfy before it ended. He had stopped even pretending to dance as his lips sought out Justin’s and his cock screamed for greater contact, to lose the clothes, to lose the trick. He was so hard he could scream, but all that came out was a guttural groan as he broke off kissing his boy and leaned his head against the trick’s back, focusing only on one thing, before he lost control completely. Not yet, but soon.
The trick thought he had died and gone somewhere gay men went when they are very, very good.
Justin heard Brian’s moan, and grabbed the back of the thigh in between them, lifting the trick’s leg to his own hip, still moving inside the beat. The dance floor shifted rapidly, the crowd moving to that side of the action, watching the way their favorite couple shifted slightly, Brian’s prodigious hard-on settling up under the guy’s ass cheek, his tenting pant material contacted by Justin’s as the two rubbed up against each other underneath this lucky bastard’s thigh.
Brian thought he would explode if he didn’t cum soon. No thoughts, just the music floor, and Justin kept from him by… why? What the fuck anyway?
Without ceremony, Brian moved his hands to the trick’s hips and lifted him out of the way, dumping him to the floor. The guy was lifted up by congratulatory hands, and spat out to no one in particular, “Back room, NOW,” and was eagerly swept off by the fortunate three who had helped him up.
Brian grabbed a very startled Justin’s hip with one hand as the other dove down the cargoes, a feather light touch against the head of the dick beneath, sweeping the bead of pre-cum against the slit, but it was enough; the vibrating twitches immediately gave to spasms as Justin arched back, swallowing a scream in the back of his throat. Brian withdrew his hand and caught that fantastic ass to grind out his own climax, both men arching hips against each other, Justin’s hands on Brian’s shoulders, clinging for support as Brian bent him backward, his face grimacing and beautiful, held like the perfect statue for a long moment as every man fortunate to have found someone else ground up against his partner, and the rest gaped, enjoying the vicarious thrill.
Brian straightened, kissed Justin tenderly, and the two began to sway to the music, settling into each others’ arms, barely pretending to keep up with the beat of the less intense song that brought the frenetic pace down, as the DJ did his part to enhance the scene of the most beautiful men in the most beautiful of moments, the lights turning to blue, the confetti drifting down like flurries now instead of the earlier blizzard. The floor opened up; every couple but the two in the middle bolted for parts well known.
Justin took a moment to catch his breath, enjoyed the feeling of Brian’s lips against his neck. “You know,” he finally ventured, “we could have kept the trick.”
“No,” Brian responded immediately. He followed up quickly, not wanting Justin to hone in on the actual point, that Brian had only wanted his younger lover, and the guy between them had stopped being helpful the moments their dicks had met beneath the guy’s thigh. “No seconds.”
Justin eyed the man in his arms, not fooled for a minute, but he only smiled and let it pass. “But you’ve been through most of them, you’re going to end up just with me.”
Brian pulled Justin in closer. “Yeah, I know. Absolute hell.” But his words were a caress, his sigh a gentle surrender into the softness of Justin’s skin.