USQaf Fic: "Embraced..." - by Xof - Br/M - Part 3 of 15
Hello??? *echo* *echo* - uhm, is ANYBODY out there?
Title: “Embraced…”
Author: xof
Feedback: xof1013@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian/Michael, Declan/Ashton (OMC/OMC)
Genre: Drama, Angst
Sequel to: “Encompassed…”
Disclaimer: Don’t own ’em, but damn it’s fun imagining I do. Declan and his Ash are my creations.
Status: Complete, but will be posted in 15 parts. (Over 140 pages total)
Archive: ATP, Always, yes.
Summary: Six months into their new relationship/arrangement, and our boys get an invitation to take a journey across the pond. London calling…
Timeline: Set after the finale of Season 2, varying irrevocably onward from there.
Pairing Note: This is very much a Brian/Michael story. However, I have created two original characters based on (and only on) the physical appearance of the actors Aidan Gillen and Craig Kelly. My OMC’s are not meant to represent the actual actors or any of their onscreen roles.
Notes: This was the story that was never planned. I saw “Encompassed” as a one-off. But the characters obviously had a lot more to say and do. An embarrassing long year and a half later, and it’s not only done - but also longer than the original. Blimey…lol. Many thanks, and dozens of hugs to Em and Margo for their support and beta help. You are both very special, and I appreciate your encouragement so much.
Warnings: Deals with the subject of Dominance/submission and bondage. However, it is a story of love and sensual play that aims to build the spirit, not tear it down. I encourage readers to take a chance and follow our boys as they discover each other, and themselves, in this new way.
Embraced…
By xof
(Begun - May 2006)
- - - - - - -
Part 3
- - - - - - -
The idea hadn’t been one based on impulse. No, it had begun years before as an idle wondering that would flirt with Brian’s libido from time to time. Nothing he would have acted on, just a thought of how would it feel, how much more intense would it make everything. A notion that would come and go, be forgotten, then return, never finding true purchase in his day to day.
As to why it had held no importance, or any weight until recently, - it wasn’t hard to explain. Brian Kinney did not do relationships; he didn’t do love. And without both, there was never going to be enough trust between him and his latest in a long line, to make it even remotely feasible.
Like so many gay men, he could privately wonder. He could imagine; he could watch. There were enough videos and fools around to meet any impulse he may have had to play witness. As for being a participant, the cost was too high to take the risk.
Still it was a curiosity, as often the forbidden in life proved to be. One that had shown its face a time or two in the ever-evolving story that was Brian and Michael.
Like the first time they'd watched porn together on a drunken night at Michael's house when they were in their early teens. Debbie had been working a double shift and Vic, who was visiting for a few weeks from New York, had decided he wasn't quite old enough yet to pass up a night on the town - thereby leaving them alone on a Friday night. It was one of the increasingly sporadic evenings they would find in the coming years when school was not beckoning come dawn, and yet there was no rush to sneak out for company other than their own.
A few slugs from a stolen bottle of whiskey, taken from Jack Kinney's don't-tell-the-wife stash, and they'd found themselves spying through Vic's room - the result of a dare that Michael had lost, much to Brian's satisfaction. He'd always loved giving Michael the extra nudge he needed to be daring, to do what he normally wouldn't have tried. It was one of Brian's favorite Mikey moments, seeing him both nervous and excited at having done something even a smidge wicked.
Seeing the thrill and the fear, Brian had watched both emotions flow across his friend's face as they'd found the tape - black, unmarked, a mystery. He'd been witness to every change of expression, and of breath that had played through Michael once they'd gone downstairs and started the VCR, the TV shining bright in the dark living room with the volume turned down just enough not to be heard from outside. Across the screen - vintage porn from the days when fucking was fast, furious, raw and bare. Men with hairy chests, and beards. Younger guys with longer hair, and pale skin. Taken, took. The scenes playing out in stark vividness, as Michael stared and Brian watched. Watched and learned the look of hunger as it clouded Michael's eyes, and pinked his skin. Watched and heard the gasp as Michael had noticed for the first time that it was skin on skin, his quick shocked glance at Brian and then fast turn back to the screen having been enough for Brian to know its impact. He'd seen the fascination on Michael's face, even as he felt it himself - the two of them watching until the tape stopped and Michael had all but raced upstairs, a muttered excuse about needing to pee, his temporary ruse for escape from Brian's eyes.
That being the first, and the memory of the weekend just past being the last and clearest in Brian's mind. The day and night that had led 'never' into a possibly of more than maybe.
They'd been running wild on Liberty Avenue, a Saturday night starting with beer and pool at Woody's, and ending with dancing like mad at Babylon. Emmett and Ted in tow, joking and jibbing when Michael had managed to talk Brian into leaving early. A chorus of fond laughter at their backs when Brian had dropped any protest with one whisper by Michael in his ear, the result of which was Brian grabbing Michael's hand and pulling him in a rush through the crowd and out the door. Just a few well-chosen words, an invite for his Dom to help him get squeaky clean before dawn, and a reminder that Sunday was....
"Paint day." Even saying the words had Brian grinning, his body warming as he shifted in the backseat of the cab he'd called following lunch. Michael's words, his nickname for their Sunday scene. Sundays being sacrosanct for them since they'd come back from Declan's second home, Havenshire. The one day of the week when they typically didn't go out, didn't take calls and spent playing. What Ashton had described as "Dommie-Day" - a time meant to be free reign for the submissive's imagination to take hold, to his Dominant's benefit and both their pleasures. A sub's day to devise; it was the one day each week that had Michael the most excited, because no matter what others thought about being a submissive - letting his imagination reign, and fantasies live empowered Michael beautifully. And they had proven to be a window for Brian into a side of Michael he'd never truly known.
The lasciviousness of his lover's mind was intoxicating to Brian, because for a man who knew himself incredibly well - he found himself feeling new each time he looked at Michael and saw that naughty smile. The one that meant their Sunday was in the bag.
Hence, - "Paint Day." A reference that Michael had been teasing Brian with for days beforehand, but in retrospect, he now knew referred to something Michael had said the first time he'd touched Brian under Declan's roof, or rather, in the man's studio. A quick, hot hand-job to take off Brian's edge before they could leave for the loft; Michael's eyes hungry and his hands a dream, but it was his words that had slammed Brian into climax. Michael's voice demanding, greedy - telling Brian to "paint" him with his cum.
The moment had been incendiary. A full day and night of it - the goal to make Brian come as much and as many times as he could manage between them, had been . . . revelatory. And in a way that Brian was sure Michael had not expected, and was not yet aware.
Hours gone, both men almost on the verge of collapsing across the bed in exhaustion, but for their needing, striving, working for one . . . last . . . go. Michael on his stomach, moaning and clutching at the wrecked bedding underneath - his body slick with sweat, and other things. Marked and coated by dirty, wet evidence of time well spent, Brian rubbed across and into his skin. The need almost primal. Brian above, on top - pressed chest to back over Michael with hips moving, thrusting between his lover's thighs. Michael circling down, then back, over and over - almost, almost, almost there himself after having gone too long without. Permission granted by his Dom for him to lose it, and Brian grunting as he fought his aching body and sensitized cock to his last end.
So near, so close. And then Brian pushed up, his arms barely able to hold him as he pressed and thrust - his angling going wild and then... Then his hips slid up, his cock riding over the curve of Michael's ass and then down between as he moved mindlessly along, and then through....
"Oh god. Ahh, Bri...fuck." Michael frozen, seized in the moment as both men realized. One more push forward, one more arch back and they'd be joined. Bare.
Both men panting with Brian's cock literally nudging at heaven's door, pressing tight against the lube slicked entrance of Michael's well-used bottom. The pressure holding as they held, locked together in the illicitness of but a second - temptation burning through their brains as Michael whispered Brian's name, and then with a curse, came spurting across the sheets beneath. And Brian followed, with a thrust back down between his thighs. The two of them floating, fighting to breathe as the impact of what had almost, could have but hadn't happened caressed the moment and their minds as sleep gained ground over them both.
"Fuck." Brian murmured, as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Even the memory of it had him hard as a rock; his mind going overtime to play out visions in his head of what it might have felt like if he'd gone further, pushed inside. Shaking his head, Brian took a deep breath and looked out the window. Almost there, just a block or two away. Clearing his throat, he asked the cabbie if he could step on it.
Funny how not far could become too far, fast.
- - -
"It's just intense, I guess. Like the end of an age." Michael's voice was soft, sounding out in a tone that spoke to his mixed emotions. He was looking down at the manila envelope that had just been delivered to him by a courier from Melanie's law office. Brushing his fingers over the metallic clasp, he said, "I mean, I'm glad that it's been settled; but it's also...” Michael stopped, smiling a bit when Emmett reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze.
"Sad, right? That makes sense, sweetie." Em looked over at Ted, sitting at his side - expectant that his lover should add some support on this closing of a big chapter in Michael's life.
Ted nodded. "Think of it as a new beginning. You've both made your peace, and now you've gained your autonomy. Thanks to Mel, and I can't believe I'm saying it - thanks to Brian."
Michael laughed at the incredulous expression on Ted's face. "Well, it was his idea. He's the reason Melanie got involved with organizing this." He stroked his hand over the envelope; one that contained the contract that detailed the agreement he and Justin had reached on the continued publication of "Rage" the comic book. Michael hadn't dared to broach the subject for the first couple months of his new relationship with Brian, but finally he'd made the call that had started Justin and him on the road to reconciling their tentative friendship.
It had probably helped them both that Justin had decided to follow his fiddler boyfriend to New York City; the separation allowed them the distance needed for tempers to cool, as did Justin's increasingly busy schedule of art school and his internship at a local gallery, working as an assistant in their youth workshops. All of which meant he had little time to continue drawing for further issues of "Rage" - not to mention it would have proven decidedly awkward to keep working with the image of his former lover, especially now that Justin was with Ethan and Michael was with Brian. He needed to move on artistically, and Michael needed to continue realizing his dream of seeing "Rage" live on.
While Justin had been more than willing to let Michael continue doing the comic with another artist, saying just take his name off - his youthful naiveté had made Michael hesitant to agree so quickly. Primarily because it was *their* co-creation; the words were Michael's but the look was Justin's design. He'd managed to bring Michael's vision to life, and it was something for which Michael would be forever thankful. So in the end, it was Brian who made the suggestion that now stood inked in black with both their signatures. Rage's future assured.
As agreed, Justin would retain his co-creator acknowledgement, thereafter. And should "Rage" continue to be published using another artist - one in fact who had been recommended by Ashton - then Justin would receive a small percentage of future profits in exchange for the on-going use of his initial design concepts for the characters. Meaning the characters' looks and the overall style would stay true to the first issue. Beyond that, Michael would have complete ownership of the "Rage" name, storyline and the freedom to distribute as he chose.
"Speak of the devil, and 'lo he appears." Ted snorted, seeing Brian coming through the door of Liberty Diner.
Coming in with such an intent internal focus, that he practically barreled over a couple as they tried to make their way outside. Echoes of curses following in his wake, Brian crossed the room with a determined stride. He stopped beside the booth, looking at Michael and asking without even a hello, "Where's Deb?"
Michael turned to him, smiling his welcome before he noticed Brian's tense face. Worried, he answered, "She has the night shift. What's up?"
Lips curving in a wicked grin, Brian glanced around. It was late afternoon, the lunch crowd having already come and mostly gone. By the looks of things, Michael had almost finished his lunch while the Temmetts still looked to be at the start of their own. Perfect... "Oh, nothing."
Michael knew that tone; it was Brian's I-have-a-plan-so-prepare-yourself-for-the-ride voice. "Bri?" He was about to start grilling for details, but his questions were decidedly forestalled when Brian took his hand and with an overly bright, "If you ladies will excuse us," to Emmett and Ted, - pulled Michael to his feet. Without knowing why, Michael quickly found himself being hurried into the bathroom where Brian proceeded to shut the door, turn the lock and flip the occupied latch built into the handle.
Michael's adamant whispered hiss of, "We are *not* going to... uhmnn," was cut off by the swift grab, swing and press of Brian flattening him against the door and taking his mouth with a kiss. One meant to mesmerize, entice and lure, which worked of course - considering he was being devoured by a master of the game.
Brian groaned appreciatively as Michael started taking back as good as he gave, the kiss turned on its ear as Brian welcomed the hunger evidenced in Michael's aggression. It was a response that hit Brian right below the belt, knowing that Michael wanted him enough to flip the coin of his submissive nature so that both of them were left panting as they reluctantly parted for air. Parted to find Michael's hands buried in Brian's hair and Brian's hands on Michael's denim-clad ass, the two of them close enough to make the effects on both of them very obvious.
Pushing his leg between Michael's thighs, Brian pressed up against him - eyes shining wickedly as he licked softly over Michael's lips. "Hmm, chicken salad." A grin, a flash of teeth as Michael laughed, - the sound breaking off with a groan as Brian nipped gently his bottom lip. "Mikey. Michael. Mine." The words touched every aspect of Michael's place in his world; and he knew the effect they would have. Could see the way Michael's eyes melted and caught fire both at the same time.
"The door had better be locked." Michael's voice was almost a whisper, husky and low.
Brian nodded, his face touched with a look and a smile that was suffused with confident sexuality and fond satisfaction. Of course that didn't stop his teasing verbal nudge, "It had better be locked, what?"
A huff of a laugh, but with his eyes locked on Brian's mouth, - the heat of the moment still raw and racing wild in his blood, Michael murmured, "Brian."
"Yes?"
Leaning in, Michael brushed his lips up the line of Brian's throat, "Shut up, and....” His remaining words a whisper in Brian's ear.
Cock twitching, full speed ahead, - Brian groaned as a playful, "Yes, sir. Mr. Novotny, sir," passed between them before he set about doing exactly what he'd been told.
- - -
The door closed with a rapid jingle clash of bell hitting wood that signaled Michael's rush as he fought to keep his cell held between ear and shoulder. He managed to get the store door locked, while laughing at the speaker's last remark. "I am hurrying, smartass. It's not my fault the shipment came in three days early." A grin graced his face as he listened to the other's response to his name-calling. "Oh, I'm well aware of your plans for my ass. But considering it's *your* ass that's on tonight's agenda... ” Michael burst out laughing when he was cut off before he could finish his sentence. He walked down the street, his stride fast with only half a block to go before he met up with his caller - Brian's black Jeep idling under a street lamp not far from Red Cape Comics.
Clapping his phone off, Michael opened the door and got into the Jeep. He leaned over to meet Brian's kiss hello before settling back in his seat as they pulled away from the curb. Eyeing the loose pajama style draw string pants and over sized t-shirt Brian was wearing, another grin came. "I cannot believe you got talked into this."
Brian shook his head fondly. He was relaxed and enjoying the freedom of the weekend to come, along with the fun they were about to walk into after a long hard week. Two weeks. Hell, make it a month. He'd been working himself like mad, long hours both at the office and home trying to pull in a new client that many had thought unattainable. It was with a sense of great satisfaction that he'd laid the contracts to bed the day before - the Kinney touch having proved once again to be worth the accolades he had been afforded as partner in the firm.
But the time involved had meant that while he and Michael could spend what free time he'd had together, it had left little to no time for them to journey out with their friends - both old and new. The Liberty crew had welcomed their return to the Avenue fold on Thursday night with drinks at Woody's, though Brian and Michael had bowed out for Friday's fare. Other plans were on tap.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Brian teased. He knew ever since he'd agreed to this little appointment, Michael had been easily baited with the hints he'd been dropping as to his familiarity with tonight's agenda.
Michael had been bursting to know Brian's little secret, the thing in his past that gave Brian grounds to rib him. Undiscovered territory was rare in the story that was their past, so when it became glaringly obvious that Brian was holding back on the details - Michael was ill set to be a good boy and not demand the truth of it. Of course, he wasn't opposed to a little nudging himself. "Please, pretty please. Tell me?"
Glancing at Michael, Brian laughed at the puppy dog eyes - enjoying the way they flashed in the streetlamps as they drove down the dark road. He make a show of acting like he was thinking it through, but then he gave in as he spotted an advantageous parking space not far from their destination. Turning in and shutting off the Jeep, Brian said, "Ask me why I'm wearing loose, bordering on baggie clothes."
"Okay. What's with the clothes?" Michael knew it wasn't like Brian would be wearing them long, all things considered. But for Brian, this was about as dressed down as the man got.
Leaning over, Brian deliberately pressed against Michael, pinning him to his seat. Lips passing over Michael's jaw, Brian answered. "No lines, no pressure marks." Hot breath tickling Michael's ear, "Just a quick push, pull and it's all me."
Eyes closing, Michael shivered at the feel of Brian close and teasing, at the image of it playing out in his mind. It was a gorgeous view, of which he was intimately aware. Add in the elements of someone or ones taking a gander in this new and different context, and the thought came, "When did you...?” But he stopped, unsure if he actually wanted to know considering the likelihood that a name beginning with "J" might be a part of the answer.
A hum of a laugh, and Brian kissed him as he opened his eyes. "College. Got asked to substitute for a guy, needed the money and said what the hell." He had that naughty boy who'd been caught but was unrepentant look on his face.
"And....” Michael was sure there was something else.
With a snort, Brian turned and opened his door. He looked back, saying, "And Lindz practically choked on her charcoal the minute she looked up and saw me standing there, sans all."
Michael grinned, "And of course you hadn't told her you were gonna be there." He chuckled, "Evil."
"Just doing my part for higher education, Mikey."
Laughter echoed through the darkness as they exited the Jeep and made their way inside.
- - -
Brian had known he'd say yes, almost immediately after being asked to pose. Not that he'd actually agreed for a good few days afterwards, letting Ashton stew playfully with a few jibes here and there about the man needing to find outside sources for his muse. "Declan not the inspiration he once was?"
A good kick to Brian's shin under the table had all of them laughing as they sat around enjoying a drink after cleaning up the remains of dinner. Ashton's aim, as ever, bang on. "He's in-exhaustively inspirational, you prat."
Brian winked at Dec, the two sharing a smile before Brian nudged some more. "So what's with the need of a change in fare?"
Declan answered before Ash did. "The client is an old friend, to us both. And while he admires Ash's dedication to me in life and art, I'm not physically his type." He gave Brian a grin, "You, however, are."
Ash snickered, "At least from the neck down." The work, they all knew, would be a figure study - headless, torso to thighs. And while he had the basic design settled, Ashton had asked Brian to stand in for the sake of reference. A few shots by Declan would serve in place of a long sitting; and he'd be well on his way to beginning the base clay model for the larger commissioned piece. One based on the "classical male form" - a phrase they'd all found amusing, considering Ashton's on-going tease about Brian's ass being worthy for marble immortalization.
Not that he hadn't also said the same about Michael's tush a time or two - often just to see the flush that showed on Michael's face at the memory of his own little time as artist’s model under Declan's lens. Evidence of which had indeed made itself onto the loft wall, there to this day.
Michael looked around, "I've never seen any of the pieces you've done of Declan. Are there any here? I'd love to see them."
Ash glanced at Declan, a private smile passing between them before he answered. "London. They're at our place in London."
"Oh, well. Maybe you could send pictures, next time you go back." Michael was disappointed; he'd become a fan of Ash's talent from the first day they'd met and he'd wandered around the third floor studio. But email would stand in well to satisfy curiosity.
Ash winked at Declan, the two sharing a laugh before they stood to gather up the glasses, taking them to the kitchen. Turning to Michael, Ashton took his hand and pulled him up. "Misha, I look forward to showing them to you. One day." Nodding his head towards Brian, he said, "Time to get this one upstairs, and starkers. Chop, chop." And with that, he was out the door and already heading up the stairs.
Brian stood, putting his arm around Michael's shoulders as they watched Ash's retreating backside. "Pushy, much?"
Declan nodded, "It's one of his more endearing qualities." Waving towards the open door, "Shall we?"
- - -
The mood was easy, relaxed with smooth music playing from the speakers spread throughout the room. The choice a fun bit of sparring between Brian and Dec - Lady Day or the Monk, heads or tails. The Lady won the day, much to Declan's amusement - the man still shaking his head as Ash proceeded to say, "Head or Tails, it's like a gay man's game of flip for position, of course then there'd never be a loser."
Brian hugged Michael, who was standing in front, leaning back against his chest. "Gotta love a man with a smart mouth." He murmured quietly in Michael's ear, "Especially one who knows how to use it." He smiled as Michael shifted, hands coming up to clasp Brian's as he turned his head towards the taller man's nuzzling lips. The pair sharing a kiss, soft with the promise of more, when they were surprised out of it by the flash of Declan's camera.
"Cheat."
Declan smirked at Brian, "Not my fault, when the two of you like that are a pretty picture waiting to happen." He gave a glance at the lights he'd had Ashton adjust, and then he nodded towards the dark backdrop. "You're up."
Giving a tug at Michael's hips, Brian moved against him. "Not yet, but it's very imminent."
Michael turned and gave him a push back, laughing. "I don't think that's the kind of statue Ash had in mind."
Ash agreed, in his own way. "Yeah, we're talking marble not wood."
Brian grinned, "Okay, I'll hold the thought." He kicked off his shoes, placing them on the same table that held his previously discarded shirt, the one he'd lost when Declan had him standing in for the lighting setup. Because even though it was a sideline "hobby," - the man was way beyond Polaroid stage. Hell, to Brian's mind he could have turned professional any day.
Holding up his hand, Brian quirked his finger at Michael. "One last thing." He pulled Michael close, "Dip your fingers in at my waist and give 'em a push."
Michael's eyes widened, "What's this?" His hands had stopped, half dug in at Brian's hips - the sensation of something soft and ... "Silky." He gave Brian's pants a shove; the fabric pooled on the floor, and found that there was a long strip of black tied low around his waist. "What are you...?”
"Shhh," Brian pressed a finger to Michael's mouth. "No more talking." He untied the silk and held it to Michael's nose, grinning when Michael moaned softly as realization and memory struck. They were playing, a game familiar to them both. One that reflected back to the first time they'd played out a scene under Declan's supervision. The length of fabric warm and smelling of Brian's skin, a tactile reminder of who Michael belonged to and the power he'd given him as Brian covered Michael's eyes and tied the blindfold in place. "I want you to listen, and picture me naked under hot lights."
Michael bit back a sound, his breath heavy and his world blind of all, except the sound of Brian's words and the feel of him under his hands. Hands that Michael mapped over the smooth warmth of Brian's chest on his way to pulling him down to satisfy his need for taste. The kiss, delicious. Deep. And all too short, as Michael felt Brian's satisfied laugh against his lips before he pulled back and guided Michael down to kneel on the pillows close by. One last lick, hot and maddening across his mouth as Brian left him to imagine while the room filled with flashes, Declan's instructions, Ash's barbs and the sound of male laughter.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he sensed someone standing close, felt fingers running through his hair. Michael turned his face and met the next touch with a kiss to the other's palm, hearing Brian's voice from above murmuring his name. Leaning in, Michael intentionally brushed his mouth over his lover's thigh - following up the line of it until he felt the heat of Brian's sex and the soft rasp of curling hair against his lips. A deep breath, Brian's scent a part of him - Michael shifted, unsteadily still on his knees. The hard line of his dick trapped in his jeans causing him to fight from touching himself, when he knew he wasn't allowed. Permission needed, but not yet given.
"Come up here." Brian's hands guiding, helping Michael to stand as the blindfold remained. Leading him, the direction unknown, until it became clearer with the sensation of heat against his skin. The feel of the lights touching him, and Michael knew were they stood.
And what it could mean.
Reaching out, Michael clutched Brian's arm - squeezing it as his lips parted to question, though no sound came.
"Easy, Mikey. No worries." Brian leaned in, pressing his forehead against Michael's. Speaking low, he eased his hands down Michael's t-shirt - touching him as his heart beat faster. "This was the trade-off. Photos for Ash, photos for us." He pushed the soft wash-worn cotton up over Michael's stomach, fingers teasing at his nipples until he gasped. "Don't think, just feel. My hands, my body. In this moment, I'm all you need to know."
Voice dropped low, intimate and only for him - Brian at his best. The seducer sure of the seduced.
Michael pressed closer, his smile hidden under Brian's chin. His body reacted instantly, as it always did to his lover's pull and his Dom's certainty. But it was both those things together that had him smiling, fond as he was of the man who held him - knowing him the way he did. To be the focus of both Brian's love and passion - it was the cause of his greatest happiness. Lending him a sense of courage and daring he'd lately embraced.
"Hmm, tickles." Brian murmured, his fingers busy undoing the clasp of Michael's jeans as his lover's mouth traced a path from one side of his collarbone to the other. The soft rasp of hair as Michael rubbed his cheek over Brian's nipple sent a rush of heat up the taller man's spine, his hands working faster until they'd succeeded in pushing the denim over Michael's hips. "Keep still, I won't let you fall." The words said with the intent to comfort, belied his haste as Brian slid down Michael's body and held him close as he worked off the shoes, socks and jeans. Rising up, he pressed against him and all but swallowed Michael's soft groan, the heat of their skin made keener as the lights rained down and caressed them both in a warm glow.
Red cotton, rucked up under his arms with nipples still exposed and the line of his back showing - the t-shirt was the only thing besides the blindfold that Michael still wore. Except for that which would not be removed, black and platinum at his throat, and the leather around their wrists - both of his, and Brian's right. The picture of them made more illicit for the remaining touch of the china red, a telltale sign of two men so into the moment and each other than the details were forgotten. Lost in the kiss they shared, and the fire that continued to rise from within.
Hands drawn over skin, hungry and harsh in their hurry to feel more and be closer than close. Michael's sliding, clutching at Brian's slick body. Brian's consuming with every inch of Michael he could claimed. Until they parted, pulling back for breath.
Brian pushed his fingers through Michael's hair, framing his face as he looked at him. "You look so *fucking* hot like this - hard, hot," each word emphasized by the draw of his hand down the side of Michael's body, hip, thigh, "mine."
*flash*
A glance to the side, Declan with camera raised and ready - picking out only the choice few moments it seemed rather than the random flash, and Brian turned back to Michael. Turned and grinned, noticing the shirt. He tugged at it, teasing, "Toss or tear?"
Voice a little uneven, Michael answered barely above a whisper. "As you like." He gasped as Brian fluttered his fingers dangerously down his side. "Sir, aww, sorry. As you like, sir."
Giving Michael a reprieve from tickle-torture, Brian hummed, "Choices, choices." He waited a tick, then said, "Fuck it," and grabbed the shirt. The rip/tug sounded loudly, chorused sweetly by Michael's moan as he grabbed Brian, arms coming up around his shoulders as he tried not to stumble blind. A couple more tears and the cotton flew, Brian tossing the remains out of it their way as he locked Michael in his arms and took another kiss. Then another until Michael was dizzy with need and disoriented without the centering of sight.
Breaking away, Brian pulled Michael down with him. Pulled, then pressed him to the floor - the two of them framed in black, their only consideration against the bare wood of the floor being the large crush velvet throw that Declan had used in Brian's photos. Blanketed, held, caged under Brian's body - Michael arched up into it, into him as he wrapped his arms around Brian, then legs too. The need in him writ clear across his skin, in the strength of his claim and the clutch of his hands.
Brian's voice, rasping and rough in his ear. "Tell me, Michael. Tell me what this does to you."
Hands, large and warm traveling over him - touching him as the words, the demand rained down. Michael managed to answer, "I, I can't... can't think, just feel." He stopped, a sound leaving him, soft, surprised, as Brian took him in hand, hard-on already wet at the tip, and stroked. He moaned, "Want. You. All of you."
*flash*
Too focused on Michael, Brian missed Declan's camera capturing the moment - the picture of them entwined in passion, in each other - wrapped together, in their own world.
All of you, all of you - the words, Michael's voice, the feel of him - all of it was sounding through his cock, his blood, his brain; all of it calling to that need in him, the impulse he'd been sheltering close, considering hard. "In every way." A murmur, a groan, a prelude upon the surge as hunger stopped the game and he was there with Michael, the two of them straining, thrusting down, up, against each other. Bodies sliding, friction burned; and they were gone to the room, to their friends, to anything but the rush and roar of now, please, more and all. Mouths crushed, wet and red, neither man wanting to part as it built, the end, the joy.
Until with a jerk, Brian tore Michael's blindfold away and then all was light, Michael's eyes and the freedom Brian allowed himself as he gave into the truth of what it was he wanted. Lips pressed to Michael's ear as they surged ever closer, almost there and then with a grunt, a groan, it was Brian's words that brought them home. "Bare, Mikey. Aww, fuck, ahh. I want you bare. All of me, coming wet.... Inside you." The last a growl as Brian's body seized and Michael's nails dug into his back. His lover gasping, shaking as his eyes snapped open and locked with Brian's own. Then the shock, a flash and then Michael threw his head back and came. The two of them, only a hiccup in time apart, riding the rush together.
*flash*
- - -
"Ohhh, yes! Fuck." A laugh, a deep sigh and a smile that lit up Irish eyes as Declan rolled his head back as Ash rose from his lap. A muttered, "Master," and Declan rose up to look at Ash, scrubbing his hand through the Englishman's hair as he nuzzled his face against Declan's chest. A thumb, brushed over the kneeling man's lips and Declan grinned, "Darkling, mine."
A kiss placed in the palm of Declan's hand, and Ashton answered, "Master man," with a laugh as Declan made to cover his mouth with a groan.
Brian laughed, coming back from the kitchen area of the loft. Handing Michael a drink, he sat down in one of the overstuffed leather chairs and pulled Michael down to sit with him in a tangle of limbs. "Completely incorrigible." He just waggled his eyebrows at Michael's whispered, "Pot-kettle-black."
Snorting at Brian's comment, Declan gave Ash a playful shove back to his seated position on the pillow beside Dec's chair. "Makes life that much more interesting." He adjusted his clothes a bit before leaning back relaxed, sated - a man at ease in his own world.
The four of them had settled together following events upstairs, Michael and Brian with a quick segue to the guest shower before redressing - Michael in a borrowed tee, and coming up to find Declan and Ash fooling around in the living room. Fooling around, well that led to more than fooling around, - which proved a fun show, and ironically a bit of tables turned following what they'd been doing only a short time before...
Brian was happily watching the interplay of their friends as the conversation turned to an old argument of when would Declan be entering into the new age by going digital with his equipment and cameras, rather than staying true to film. Ash's comment on the woes of serving Darkroom vs. Digital Declan had his Master pulling him over his knee to give him a good swat to the ass; much to the amusement of all when he just wiggled for more and got relegated to kneeling on the floor again.
Michael smiled, his head resting against Brian's shoulder, as he stayed quiet. Thoughtful. He'd been that way since they'd come down from the high of earlier events. So much so fast, it had him feeling winded. The night, the way it had turned out. First the pictures - that had been a surprise, true. But the months that had passed and the level of trust they'd come to find in both Dec and Ash were enough to have Michael little worried that anything bad would come as a result.
After all, it had been his idea that first time to be photographed by Declan as a gift for Brian. True enough that it had been done in a fairly anonymous fashion with his back to the camera for the end portrait. But there had been a random few with his face showing, a couple position and lighting changes where it was more than obvious that Michael was the subject. In the end though, Declan had taken the initiative in giving the negatives to Brian before they'd left his country home, Havenshire, so many months back.
Michael knew; it was imperative to Declan that he be trustworthy - both as a requirement of his profession as a therapist, and personally as a man who held so many roles. Master, lover, friend and guide. He'd proven that in both words and actions, time and again. So aside from the initial embarrassment of knowing he was being photographed in that moment, like that, Michael was quick in retrospect not to doubt the man or his motives.
No, that wasn't what had him so quiet. It was the other, Brian's words echoing through his head. The vehemence of them resounding as clear as when they'd first been said. Which had him asking, had Brian meant it? Or was it just said in the moment - all heat and no sense?
In the rush, Michael's reaction hadn't been one of conscious thought either. He'd just *felt* the words, their impact ricocheting through him in a wave of shock and joy. And now, in the hereafter of that - he was left with a head full of questions, which may or may not be irrelevant when he knew, as he'd known in the moment, that if Brian were to ask him - head clear and eyes wide open, again... Ultimately he already knew his answer.
"Mikeyyyy." Brian's voice calling him back from his thoughts, Michael looked up and then over at Dec and Ash.
"Sorry. Yes?"
Declan said, "Brian was telling us that you have plans for tomorrow."
Michael hugged his lover's arm as it tightened around his waist, "Yeah, we're watching Gus for Mel and Lindz." It was evident in his voice that he was looking forward to it, the child in Michael having found a partner in comic crime even at so young an age. Saturday was already looking to be filled with sandbox castles and cartoon marathons, with Brian being dragged along - begrudgingly loving it - the whole way.
Declan gave Ash's hair a playful tug, "Which means you'll be safe from this one's attempt at curry for lunch, then."
At Ashton's answering but sneaky glare, Brian opened his mouth to speak, but Michael looked up at him and shook his head. "Don't even try it. We promised the girls, and Gus."
Loving the fierce, albeit amused, determination on Michael's face, Brian pressed a kiss to his brow before rolling his eyes at their hosts. "They're ganging up on me, the pair of them. My two boys."
The affection in Brian's voice not lost to the room, Michael's smile grew as he glanced at Ash. The Englishman had a pleased look on his face, the two of them sharing a silent moment that ended with him giving Michael a wink. After all, there was value in what was heard, as well as what was said.
Ash turned to look up at Declan, giving his trousers a pull. He didn't say anything; just waited it seemed for Dec to answer back with a nod - the question having not been voiced, but asked all the same. Ashton bowed his head, the gesture one of thanks - and then shifted to lay it in Declan's lap. Resting there as his Master played with his hair.
Dec ran his fingers through the brown tresses, and over the length of his slave's neck. "Since we won't have the pleasure of your company tomorrow, tonight seems a good time to pose a question." He asked Brian, "How's your schedule looking over the second half of October?"
"Before or after I take my red cape and blue tights out of storage for the 31st?" Brian laughed as Michael gave him a rude nudge in the ribs, "Watch it Lois."
At Ash's murmured, "More like Peter and Wendy," Michael shook his head, grinning. "You're supposed to be on my side."
Declan tapped Ash on the forehead, saying, "We all are, Michael." Giving Brian a 'well' look, he asked, "Your schedule?"
Curious, Brian said, "Manageable, it's November into December that's an ad crunch." Timing campaigns to holidays usually meant the end of the year was an endless race set against an ever-faster ticking clock.
"One or two weeks, manageable?"
Thinking, details in mind, Brian nodded. "Possibly, yeah. I'm owed the time; I just came off a major play, so if I'm vying for time now rather than later at Thanksgiving or Christmas - it's more likely a go."
"Michael, how about you? Could you make arrangements for the store?"
"Uhm, well, I'd have to talk to Vic. He might be able to open, take the mornings. And Renny, she could come in after class to close." He turned looked at Brian, "She's been asking if she could put a hand in, since our Rage meetings usually end up getting interrupted by customers coming in and out."
Brian nodded, "Hire her on part-time, until she heads home for winter break." He knew it would help free up some more of Michael's time, a score for them both. And the time Michael and Renny did spend together could be more focused in on them finishing the next issue of Rage. The comic's first run featuring the new talents of Renny Magill, art student and comic book geek on a par to rival Michael on his best day thanks to her three older brothers and winner of the coveted Ashton Forster gold-star recommendation for graphic artist on the cusp of discovery.
Graphic being the operative word, considering they'd learned quickly enough that she was decidedly lacking in inhibition when it came to potential explicit storylines and gay sexuality. In her words, both topics were something of which she considered herself "a big fan."
Michael turned to Dec and Ash. "What are you planning?"
Declan laughed at Michael's cautious tone. "Nothing out-rightly nefarious; rather *we* - Ash and I - are going to be taking a small trip home. We're flying out at the end of the week, and thought it might be fun to invite you to come with."
Scrambling up with Brian groaning at misplaced elbows and knees, Michael asked excitedly, "London?" He climbed to sit astride Brian's lap, asking him, "We're going to London?"
Brian pulled at Michael's hips, grinning as he hugged his arms around Brian's neck. Eyes wide and bright, it was one of Michael's most endearing expressions. One almost guaranteed not to be denied. "Like I'd say no to that face," he groused fondly.
Ash's voice came, "Like you'd want to when we all know giving in is part of the fun."
Giving Ash's nearest nipple ring a tweak, Declan admonished, "You, hush." To Brian and Michael, "Scheduling, passports?"
Brian nodded, "We've got it; it's in the details." He felt Michael go still. Seeing him frown, Brian asked, "Mikey?"
Michael leaned in, speaking softly into Brian's ear. "Bri, I'm not sure, I mean with the store mortgage. Money..."
"Isn't an issue." Brian kissed Michael, effectively ending the futile protest. He ran his fingers over the line of Michael's jaw, enjoying the soft scratch of hair against his skin. He pulled back, face serious and voice firm. "Michael, it's a yes." His gaze shifted over Michael's shoulder to Declan, seeing the Irishman's warm smile. "Looks like we're crossing the pond."
TBC...
Would love to know what you think...
Hugs
xof
Title: “Embraced…”
Author: xof
Feedback: xof1013@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian/Michael, Declan/Ashton (OMC/OMC)
Genre: Drama, Angst
Sequel to: “Encompassed…”
Disclaimer: Don’t own ’em, but damn it’s fun imagining I do. Declan and his Ash are my creations.
Status: Complete, but will be posted in 15 parts. (Over 140 pages total)
Archive: ATP, Always, yes.
Summary: Six months into their new relationship/arrangement, and our boys get an invitation to take a journey across the pond. London calling…
Timeline: Set after the finale of Season 2, varying irrevocably onward from there.
Pairing Note: This is very much a Brian/Michael story. However, I have created two original characters based on (and only on) the physical appearance of the actors Aidan Gillen and Craig Kelly. My OMC’s are not meant to represent the actual actors or any of their onscreen roles.
Notes: This was the story that was never planned. I saw “Encompassed” as a one-off. But the characters obviously had a lot more to say and do. An embarrassing long year and a half later, and it’s not only done - but also longer than the original. Blimey…lol. Many thanks, and dozens of hugs to Em and Margo for their support and beta help. You are both very special, and I appreciate your encouragement so much.
Warnings: Deals with the subject of Dominance/submission and bondage. However, it is a story of love and sensual play that aims to build the spirit, not tear it down. I encourage readers to take a chance and follow our boys as they discover each other, and themselves, in this new way.
Embraced…
By xof
(Begun - May 2006)
- - - - - - -
Part 3
- - - - - - -
The idea hadn’t been one based on impulse. No, it had begun years before as an idle wondering that would flirt with Brian’s libido from time to time. Nothing he would have acted on, just a thought of how would it feel, how much more intense would it make everything. A notion that would come and go, be forgotten, then return, never finding true purchase in his day to day.
As to why it had held no importance, or any weight until recently, - it wasn’t hard to explain. Brian Kinney did not do relationships; he didn’t do love. And without both, there was never going to be enough trust between him and his latest in a long line, to make it even remotely feasible.
Like so many gay men, he could privately wonder. He could imagine; he could watch. There were enough videos and fools around to meet any impulse he may have had to play witness. As for being a participant, the cost was too high to take the risk.
Still it was a curiosity, as often the forbidden in life proved to be. One that had shown its face a time or two in the ever-evolving story that was Brian and Michael.
Like the first time they'd watched porn together on a drunken night at Michael's house when they were in their early teens. Debbie had been working a double shift and Vic, who was visiting for a few weeks from New York, had decided he wasn't quite old enough yet to pass up a night on the town - thereby leaving them alone on a Friday night. It was one of the increasingly sporadic evenings they would find in the coming years when school was not beckoning come dawn, and yet there was no rush to sneak out for company other than their own.
A few slugs from a stolen bottle of whiskey, taken from Jack Kinney's don't-tell-the-wife stash, and they'd found themselves spying through Vic's room - the result of a dare that Michael had lost, much to Brian's satisfaction. He'd always loved giving Michael the extra nudge he needed to be daring, to do what he normally wouldn't have tried. It was one of Brian's favorite Mikey moments, seeing him both nervous and excited at having done something even a smidge wicked.
Seeing the thrill and the fear, Brian had watched both emotions flow across his friend's face as they'd found the tape - black, unmarked, a mystery. He'd been witness to every change of expression, and of breath that had played through Michael once they'd gone downstairs and started the VCR, the TV shining bright in the dark living room with the volume turned down just enough not to be heard from outside. Across the screen - vintage porn from the days when fucking was fast, furious, raw and bare. Men with hairy chests, and beards. Younger guys with longer hair, and pale skin. Taken, took. The scenes playing out in stark vividness, as Michael stared and Brian watched. Watched and learned the look of hunger as it clouded Michael's eyes, and pinked his skin. Watched and heard the gasp as Michael had noticed for the first time that it was skin on skin, his quick shocked glance at Brian and then fast turn back to the screen having been enough for Brian to know its impact. He'd seen the fascination on Michael's face, even as he felt it himself - the two of them watching until the tape stopped and Michael had all but raced upstairs, a muttered excuse about needing to pee, his temporary ruse for escape from Brian's eyes.
That being the first, and the memory of the weekend just past being the last and clearest in Brian's mind. The day and night that had led 'never' into a possibly of more than maybe.
They'd been running wild on Liberty Avenue, a Saturday night starting with beer and pool at Woody's, and ending with dancing like mad at Babylon. Emmett and Ted in tow, joking and jibbing when Michael had managed to talk Brian into leaving early. A chorus of fond laughter at their backs when Brian had dropped any protest with one whisper by Michael in his ear, the result of which was Brian grabbing Michael's hand and pulling him in a rush through the crowd and out the door. Just a few well-chosen words, an invite for his Dom to help him get squeaky clean before dawn, and a reminder that Sunday was....
"Paint day." Even saying the words had Brian grinning, his body warming as he shifted in the backseat of the cab he'd called following lunch. Michael's words, his nickname for their Sunday scene. Sundays being sacrosanct for them since they'd come back from Declan's second home, Havenshire. The one day of the week when they typically didn't go out, didn't take calls and spent playing. What Ashton had described as "Dommie-Day" - a time meant to be free reign for the submissive's imagination to take hold, to his Dominant's benefit and both their pleasures. A sub's day to devise; it was the one day each week that had Michael the most excited, because no matter what others thought about being a submissive - letting his imagination reign, and fantasies live empowered Michael beautifully. And they had proven to be a window for Brian into a side of Michael he'd never truly known.
The lasciviousness of his lover's mind was intoxicating to Brian, because for a man who knew himself incredibly well - he found himself feeling new each time he looked at Michael and saw that naughty smile. The one that meant their Sunday was in the bag.
Hence, - "Paint Day." A reference that Michael had been teasing Brian with for days beforehand, but in retrospect, he now knew referred to something Michael had said the first time he'd touched Brian under Declan's roof, or rather, in the man's studio. A quick, hot hand-job to take off Brian's edge before they could leave for the loft; Michael's eyes hungry and his hands a dream, but it was his words that had slammed Brian into climax. Michael's voice demanding, greedy - telling Brian to "paint" him with his cum.
The moment had been incendiary. A full day and night of it - the goal to make Brian come as much and as many times as he could manage between them, had been . . . revelatory. And in a way that Brian was sure Michael had not expected, and was not yet aware.
Hours gone, both men almost on the verge of collapsing across the bed in exhaustion, but for their needing, striving, working for one . . . last . . . go. Michael on his stomach, moaning and clutching at the wrecked bedding underneath - his body slick with sweat, and other things. Marked and coated by dirty, wet evidence of time well spent, Brian rubbed across and into his skin. The need almost primal. Brian above, on top - pressed chest to back over Michael with hips moving, thrusting between his lover's thighs. Michael circling down, then back, over and over - almost, almost, almost there himself after having gone too long without. Permission granted by his Dom for him to lose it, and Brian grunting as he fought his aching body and sensitized cock to his last end.
So near, so close. And then Brian pushed up, his arms barely able to hold him as he pressed and thrust - his angling going wild and then... Then his hips slid up, his cock riding over the curve of Michael's ass and then down between as he moved mindlessly along, and then through....
"Oh god. Ahh, Bri...fuck." Michael frozen, seized in the moment as both men realized. One more push forward, one more arch back and they'd be joined. Bare.
Both men panting with Brian's cock literally nudging at heaven's door, pressing tight against the lube slicked entrance of Michael's well-used bottom. The pressure holding as they held, locked together in the illicitness of but a second - temptation burning through their brains as Michael whispered Brian's name, and then with a curse, came spurting across the sheets beneath. And Brian followed, with a thrust back down between his thighs. The two of them floating, fighting to breathe as the impact of what had almost, could have but hadn't happened caressed the moment and their minds as sleep gained ground over them both.
"Fuck." Brian murmured, as he leaned back and closed his eyes. Even the memory of it had him hard as a rock; his mind going overtime to play out visions in his head of what it might have felt like if he'd gone further, pushed inside. Shaking his head, Brian took a deep breath and looked out the window. Almost there, just a block or two away. Clearing his throat, he asked the cabbie if he could step on it.
Funny how not far could become too far, fast.
- - -
"It's just intense, I guess. Like the end of an age." Michael's voice was soft, sounding out in a tone that spoke to his mixed emotions. He was looking down at the manila envelope that had just been delivered to him by a courier from Melanie's law office. Brushing his fingers over the metallic clasp, he said, "I mean, I'm glad that it's been settled; but it's also...” Michael stopped, smiling a bit when Emmett reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze.
"Sad, right? That makes sense, sweetie." Em looked over at Ted, sitting at his side - expectant that his lover should add some support on this closing of a big chapter in Michael's life.
Ted nodded. "Think of it as a new beginning. You've both made your peace, and now you've gained your autonomy. Thanks to Mel, and I can't believe I'm saying it - thanks to Brian."
Michael laughed at the incredulous expression on Ted's face. "Well, it was his idea. He's the reason Melanie got involved with organizing this." He stroked his hand over the envelope; one that contained the contract that detailed the agreement he and Justin had reached on the continued publication of "Rage" the comic book. Michael hadn't dared to broach the subject for the first couple months of his new relationship with Brian, but finally he'd made the call that had started Justin and him on the road to reconciling their tentative friendship.
It had probably helped them both that Justin had decided to follow his fiddler boyfriend to New York City; the separation allowed them the distance needed for tempers to cool, as did Justin's increasingly busy schedule of art school and his internship at a local gallery, working as an assistant in their youth workshops. All of which meant he had little time to continue drawing for further issues of "Rage" - not to mention it would have proven decidedly awkward to keep working with the image of his former lover, especially now that Justin was with Ethan and Michael was with Brian. He needed to move on artistically, and Michael needed to continue realizing his dream of seeing "Rage" live on.
While Justin had been more than willing to let Michael continue doing the comic with another artist, saying just take his name off - his youthful naiveté had made Michael hesitant to agree so quickly. Primarily because it was *their* co-creation; the words were Michael's but the look was Justin's design. He'd managed to bring Michael's vision to life, and it was something for which Michael would be forever thankful. So in the end, it was Brian who made the suggestion that now stood inked in black with both their signatures. Rage's future assured.
As agreed, Justin would retain his co-creator acknowledgement, thereafter. And should "Rage" continue to be published using another artist - one in fact who had been recommended by Ashton - then Justin would receive a small percentage of future profits in exchange for the on-going use of his initial design concepts for the characters. Meaning the characters' looks and the overall style would stay true to the first issue. Beyond that, Michael would have complete ownership of the "Rage" name, storyline and the freedom to distribute as he chose.
"Speak of the devil, and 'lo he appears." Ted snorted, seeing Brian coming through the door of Liberty Diner.
Coming in with such an intent internal focus, that he practically barreled over a couple as they tried to make their way outside. Echoes of curses following in his wake, Brian crossed the room with a determined stride. He stopped beside the booth, looking at Michael and asking without even a hello, "Where's Deb?"
Michael turned to him, smiling his welcome before he noticed Brian's tense face. Worried, he answered, "She has the night shift. What's up?"
Lips curving in a wicked grin, Brian glanced around. It was late afternoon, the lunch crowd having already come and mostly gone. By the looks of things, Michael had almost finished his lunch while the Temmetts still looked to be at the start of their own. Perfect... "Oh, nothing."
Michael knew that tone; it was Brian's I-have-a-plan-so-prepare-yourself-for-the-ride voice. "Bri?" He was about to start grilling for details, but his questions were decidedly forestalled when Brian took his hand and with an overly bright, "If you ladies will excuse us," to Emmett and Ted, - pulled Michael to his feet. Without knowing why, Michael quickly found himself being hurried into the bathroom where Brian proceeded to shut the door, turn the lock and flip the occupied latch built into the handle.
Michael's adamant whispered hiss of, "We are *not* going to... uhmnn," was cut off by the swift grab, swing and press of Brian flattening him against the door and taking his mouth with a kiss. One meant to mesmerize, entice and lure, which worked of course - considering he was being devoured by a master of the game.
Brian groaned appreciatively as Michael started taking back as good as he gave, the kiss turned on its ear as Brian welcomed the hunger evidenced in Michael's aggression. It was a response that hit Brian right below the belt, knowing that Michael wanted him enough to flip the coin of his submissive nature so that both of them were left panting as they reluctantly parted for air. Parted to find Michael's hands buried in Brian's hair and Brian's hands on Michael's denim-clad ass, the two of them close enough to make the effects on both of them very obvious.
Pushing his leg between Michael's thighs, Brian pressed up against him - eyes shining wickedly as he licked softly over Michael's lips. "Hmm, chicken salad." A grin, a flash of teeth as Michael laughed, - the sound breaking off with a groan as Brian nipped gently his bottom lip. "Mikey. Michael. Mine." The words touched every aspect of Michael's place in his world; and he knew the effect they would have. Could see the way Michael's eyes melted and caught fire both at the same time.
"The door had better be locked." Michael's voice was almost a whisper, husky and low.
Brian nodded, his face touched with a look and a smile that was suffused with confident sexuality and fond satisfaction. Of course that didn't stop his teasing verbal nudge, "It had better be locked, what?"
A huff of a laugh, but with his eyes locked on Brian's mouth, - the heat of the moment still raw and racing wild in his blood, Michael murmured, "Brian."
"Yes?"
Leaning in, Michael brushed his lips up the line of Brian's throat, "Shut up, and....” His remaining words a whisper in Brian's ear.
Cock twitching, full speed ahead, - Brian groaned as a playful, "Yes, sir. Mr. Novotny, sir," passed between them before he set about doing exactly what he'd been told.
- - -
The door closed with a rapid jingle clash of bell hitting wood that signaled Michael's rush as he fought to keep his cell held between ear and shoulder. He managed to get the store door locked, while laughing at the speaker's last remark. "I am hurrying, smartass. It's not my fault the shipment came in three days early." A grin graced his face as he listened to the other's response to his name-calling. "Oh, I'm well aware of your plans for my ass. But considering it's *your* ass that's on tonight's agenda... ” Michael burst out laughing when he was cut off before he could finish his sentence. He walked down the street, his stride fast with only half a block to go before he met up with his caller - Brian's black Jeep idling under a street lamp not far from Red Cape Comics.
Clapping his phone off, Michael opened the door and got into the Jeep. He leaned over to meet Brian's kiss hello before settling back in his seat as they pulled away from the curb. Eyeing the loose pajama style draw string pants and over sized t-shirt Brian was wearing, another grin came. "I cannot believe you got talked into this."
Brian shook his head fondly. He was relaxed and enjoying the freedom of the weekend to come, along with the fun they were about to walk into after a long hard week. Two weeks. Hell, make it a month. He'd been working himself like mad, long hours both at the office and home trying to pull in a new client that many had thought unattainable. It was with a sense of great satisfaction that he'd laid the contracts to bed the day before - the Kinney touch having proved once again to be worth the accolades he had been afforded as partner in the firm.
But the time involved had meant that while he and Michael could spend what free time he'd had together, it had left little to no time for them to journey out with their friends - both old and new. The Liberty crew had welcomed their return to the Avenue fold on Thursday night with drinks at Woody's, though Brian and Michael had bowed out for Friday's fare. Other plans were on tap.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Brian teased. He knew ever since he'd agreed to this little appointment, Michael had been easily baited with the hints he'd been dropping as to his familiarity with tonight's agenda.
Michael had been bursting to know Brian's little secret, the thing in his past that gave Brian grounds to rib him. Undiscovered territory was rare in the story that was their past, so when it became glaringly obvious that Brian was holding back on the details - Michael was ill set to be a good boy and not demand the truth of it. Of course, he wasn't opposed to a little nudging himself. "Please, pretty please. Tell me?"
Glancing at Michael, Brian laughed at the puppy dog eyes - enjoying the way they flashed in the streetlamps as they drove down the dark road. He make a show of acting like he was thinking it through, but then he gave in as he spotted an advantageous parking space not far from their destination. Turning in and shutting off the Jeep, Brian said, "Ask me why I'm wearing loose, bordering on baggie clothes."
"Okay. What's with the clothes?" Michael knew it wasn't like Brian would be wearing them long, all things considered. But for Brian, this was about as dressed down as the man got.
Leaning over, Brian deliberately pressed against Michael, pinning him to his seat. Lips passing over Michael's jaw, Brian answered. "No lines, no pressure marks." Hot breath tickling Michael's ear, "Just a quick push, pull and it's all me."
Eyes closing, Michael shivered at the feel of Brian close and teasing, at the image of it playing out in his mind. It was a gorgeous view, of which he was intimately aware. Add in the elements of someone or ones taking a gander in this new and different context, and the thought came, "When did you...?” But he stopped, unsure if he actually wanted to know considering the likelihood that a name beginning with "J" might be a part of the answer.
A hum of a laugh, and Brian kissed him as he opened his eyes. "College. Got asked to substitute for a guy, needed the money and said what the hell." He had that naughty boy who'd been caught but was unrepentant look on his face.
"And....” Michael was sure there was something else.
With a snort, Brian turned and opened his door. He looked back, saying, "And Lindz practically choked on her charcoal the minute she looked up and saw me standing there, sans all."
Michael grinned, "And of course you hadn't told her you were gonna be there." He chuckled, "Evil."
"Just doing my part for higher education, Mikey."
Laughter echoed through the darkness as they exited the Jeep and made their way inside.
- - -
Brian had known he'd say yes, almost immediately after being asked to pose. Not that he'd actually agreed for a good few days afterwards, letting Ashton stew playfully with a few jibes here and there about the man needing to find outside sources for his muse. "Declan not the inspiration he once was?"
A good kick to Brian's shin under the table had all of them laughing as they sat around enjoying a drink after cleaning up the remains of dinner. Ashton's aim, as ever, bang on. "He's in-exhaustively inspirational, you prat."
Brian winked at Dec, the two sharing a smile before Brian nudged some more. "So what's with the need of a change in fare?"
Declan answered before Ash did. "The client is an old friend, to us both. And while he admires Ash's dedication to me in life and art, I'm not physically his type." He gave Brian a grin, "You, however, are."
Ash snickered, "At least from the neck down." The work, they all knew, would be a figure study - headless, torso to thighs. And while he had the basic design settled, Ashton had asked Brian to stand in for the sake of reference. A few shots by Declan would serve in place of a long sitting; and he'd be well on his way to beginning the base clay model for the larger commissioned piece. One based on the "classical male form" - a phrase they'd all found amusing, considering Ashton's on-going tease about Brian's ass being worthy for marble immortalization.
Not that he hadn't also said the same about Michael's tush a time or two - often just to see the flush that showed on Michael's face at the memory of his own little time as artist’s model under Declan's lens. Evidence of which had indeed made itself onto the loft wall, there to this day.
Michael looked around, "I've never seen any of the pieces you've done of Declan. Are there any here? I'd love to see them."
Ash glanced at Declan, a private smile passing between them before he answered. "London. They're at our place in London."
"Oh, well. Maybe you could send pictures, next time you go back." Michael was disappointed; he'd become a fan of Ash's talent from the first day they'd met and he'd wandered around the third floor studio. But email would stand in well to satisfy curiosity.
Ash winked at Declan, the two sharing a laugh before they stood to gather up the glasses, taking them to the kitchen. Turning to Michael, Ashton took his hand and pulled him up. "Misha, I look forward to showing them to you. One day." Nodding his head towards Brian, he said, "Time to get this one upstairs, and starkers. Chop, chop." And with that, he was out the door and already heading up the stairs.
Brian stood, putting his arm around Michael's shoulders as they watched Ash's retreating backside. "Pushy, much?"
Declan nodded, "It's one of his more endearing qualities." Waving towards the open door, "Shall we?"
- - -
The mood was easy, relaxed with smooth music playing from the speakers spread throughout the room. The choice a fun bit of sparring between Brian and Dec - Lady Day or the Monk, heads or tails. The Lady won the day, much to Declan's amusement - the man still shaking his head as Ash proceeded to say, "Head or Tails, it's like a gay man's game of flip for position, of course then there'd never be a loser."
Brian hugged Michael, who was standing in front, leaning back against his chest. "Gotta love a man with a smart mouth." He murmured quietly in Michael's ear, "Especially one who knows how to use it." He smiled as Michael shifted, hands coming up to clasp Brian's as he turned his head towards the taller man's nuzzling lips. The pair sharing a kiss, soft with the promise of more, when they were surprised out of it by the flash of Declan's camera.
"Cheat."
Declan smirked at Brian, "Not my fault, when the two of you like that are a pretty picture waiting to happen." He gave a glance at the lights he'd had Ashton adjust, and then he nodded towards the dark backdrop. "You're up."
Giving a tug at Michael's hips, Brian moved against him. "Not yet, but it's very imminent."
Michael turned and gave him a push back, laughing. "I don't think that's the kind of statue Ash had in mind."
Ash agreed, in his own way. "Yeah, we're talking marble not wood."
Brian grinned, "Okay, I'll hold the thought." He kicked off his shoes, placing them on the same table that held his previously discarded shirt, the one he'd lost when Declan had him standing in for the lighting setup. Because even though it was a sideline "hobby," - the man was way beyond Polaroid stage. Hell, to Brian's mind he could have turned professional any day.
Holding up his hand, Brian quirked his finger at Michael. "One last thing." He pulled Michael close, "Dip your fingers in at my waist and give 'em a push."
Michael's eyes widened, "What's this?" His hands had stopped, half dug in at Brian's hips - the sensation of something soft and ... "Silky." He gave Brian's pants a shove; the fabric pooled on the floor, and found that there was a long strip of black tied low around his waist. "What are you...?”
"Shhh," Brian pressed a finger to Michael's mouth. "No more talking." He untied the silk and held it to Michael's nose, grinning when Michael moaned softly as realization and memory struck. They were playing, a game familiar to them both. One that reflected back to the first time they'd played out a scene under Declan's supervision. The length of fabric warm and smelling of Brian's skin, a tactile reminder of who Michael belonged to and the power he'd given him as Brian covered Michael's eyes and tied the blindfold in place. "I want you to listen, and picture me naked under hot lights."
Michael bit back a sound, his breath heavy and his world blind of all, except the sound of Brian's words and the feel of him under his hands. Hands that Michael mapped over the smooth warmth of Brian's chest on his way to pulling him down to satisfy his need for taste. The kiss, delicious. Deep. And all too short, as Michael felt Brian's satisfied laugh against his lips before he pulled back and guided Michael down to kneel on the pillows close by. One last lick, hot and maddening across his mouth as Brian left him to imagine while the room filled with flashes, Declan's instructions, Ash's barbs and the sound of male laughter.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he sensed someone standing close, felt fingers running through his hair. Michael turned his face and met the next touch with a kiss to the other's palm, hearing Brian's voice from above murmuring his name. Leaning in, Michael intentionally brushed his mouth over his lover's thigh - following up the line of it until he felt the heat of Brian's sex and the soft rasp of curling hair against his lips. A deep breath, Brian's scent a part of him - Michael shifted, unsteadily still on his knees. The hard line of his dick trapped in his jeans causing him to fight from touching himself, when he knew he wasn't allowed. Permission needed, but not yet given.
"Come up here." Brian's hands guiding, helping Michael to stand as the blindfold remained. Leading him, the direction unknown, until it became clearer with the sensation of heat against his skin. The feel of the lights touching him, and Michael knew were they stood.
And what it could mean.
Reaching out, Michael clutched Brian's arm - squeezing it as his lips parted to question, though no sound came.
"Easy, Mikey. No worries." Brian leaned in, pressing his forehead against Michael's. Speaking low, he eased his hands down Michael's t-shirt - touching him as his heart beat faster. "This was the trade-off. Photos for Ash, photos for us." He pushed the soft wash-worn cotton up over Michael's stomach, fingers teasing at his nipples until he gasped. "Don't think, just feel. My hands, my body. In this moment, I'm all you need to know."
Voice dropped low, intimate and only for him - Brian at his best. The seducer sure of the seduced.
Michael pressed closer, his smile hidden under Brian's chin. His body reacted instantly, as it always did to his lover's pull and his Dom's certainty. But it was both those things together that had him smiling, fond as he was of the man who held him - knowing him the way he did. To be the focus of both Brian's love and passion - it was the cause of his greatest happiness. Lending him a sense of courage and daring he'd lately embraced.
"Hmm, tickles." Brian murmured, his fingers busy undoing the clasp of Michael's jeans as his lover's mouth traced a path from one side of his collarbone to the other. The soft rasp of hair as Michael rubbed his cheek over Brian's nipple sent a rush of heat up the taller man's spine, his hands working faster until they'd succeeded in pushing the denim over Michael's hips. "Keep still, I won't let you fall." The words said with the intent to comfort, belied his haste as Brian slid down Michael's body and held him close as he worked off the shoes, socks and jeans. Rising up, he pressed against him and all but swallowed Michael's soft groan, the heat of their skin made keener as the lights rained down and caressed them both in a warm glow.
Red cotton, rucked up under his arms with nipples still exposed and the line of his back showing - the t-shirt was the only thing besides the blindfold that Michael still wore. Except for that which would not be removed, black and platinum at his throat, and the leather around their wrists - both of his, and Brian's right. The picture of them made more illicit for the remaining touch of the china red, a telltale sign of two men so into the moment and each other than the details were forgotten. Lost in the kiss they shared, and the fire that continued to rise from within.
Hands drawn over skin, hungry and harsh in their hurry to feel more and be closer than close. Michael's sliding, clutching at Brian's slick body. Brian's consuming with every inch of Michael he could claimed. Until they parted, pulling back for breath.
Brian pushed his fingers through Michael's hair, framing his face as he looked at him. "You look so *fucking* hot like this - hard, hot," each word emphasized by the draw of his hand down the side of Michael's body, hip, thigh, "mine."
*flash*
A glance to the side, Declan with camera raised and ready - picking out only the choice few moments it seemed rather than the random flash, and Brian turned back to Michael. Turned and grinned, noticing the shirt. He tugged at it, teasing, "Toss or tear?"
Voice a little uneven, Michael answered barely above a whisper. "As you like." He gasped as Brian fluttered his fingers dangerously down his side. "Sir, aww, sorry. As you like, sir."
Giving Michael a reprieve from tickle-torture, Brian hummed, "Choices, choices." He waited a tick, then said, "Fuck it," and grabbed the shirt. The rip/tug sounded loudly, chorused sweetly by Michael's moan as he grabbed Brian, arms coming up around his shoulders as he tried not to stumble blind. A couple more tears and the cotton flew, Brian tossing the remains out of it their way as he locked Michael in his arms and took another kiss. Then another until Michael was dizzy with need and disoriented without the centering of sight.
Breaking away, Brian pulled Michael down with him. Pulled, then pressed him to the floor - the two of them framed in black, their only consideration against the bare wood of the floor being the large crush velvet throw that Declan had used in Brian's photos. Blanketed, held, caged under Brian's body - Michael arched up into it, into him as he wrapped his arms around Brian, then legs too. The need in him writ clear across his skin, in the strength of his claim and the clutch of his hands.
Brian's voice, rasping and rough in his ear. "Tell me, Michael. Tell me what this does to you."
Hands, large and warm traveling over him - touching him as the words, the demand rained down. Michael managed to answer, "I, I can't... can't think, just feel." He stopped, a sound leaving him, soft, surprised, as Brian took him in hand, hard-on already wet at the tip, and stroked. He moaned, "Want. You. All of you."
*flash*
Too focused on Michael, Brian missed Declan's camera capturing the moment - the picture of them entwined in passion, in each other - wrapped together, in their own world.
All of you, all of you - the words, Michael's voice, the feel of him - all of it was sounding through his cock, his blood, his brain; all of it calling to that need in him, the impulse he'd been sheltering close, considering hard. "In every way." A murmur, a groan, a prelude upon the surge as hunger stopped the game and he was there with Michael, the two of them straining, thrusting down, up, against each other. Bodies sliding, friction burned; and they were gone to the room, to their friends, to anything but the rush and roar of now, please, more and all. Mouths crushed, wet and red, neither man wanting to part as it built, the end, the joy.
Until with a jerk, Brian tore Michael's blindfold away and then all was light, Michael's eyes and the freedom Brian allowed himself as he gave into the truth of what it was he wanted. Lips pressed to Michael's ear as they surged ever closer, almost there and then with a grunt, a groan, it was Brian's words that brought them home. "Bare, Mikey. Aww, fuck, ahh. I want you bare. All of me, coming wet.... Inside you." The last a growl as Brian's body seized and Michael's nails dug into his back. His lover gasping, shaking as his eyes snapped open and locked with Brian's own. Then the shock, a flash and then Michael threw his head back and came. The two of them, only a hiccup in time apart, riding the rush together.
*flash*
- - -
"Ohhh, yes! Fuck." A laugh, a deep sigh and a smile that lit up Irish eyes as Declan rolled his head back as Ash rose from his lap. A muttered, "Master," and Declan rose up to look at Ash, scrubbing his hand through the Englishman's hair as he nuzzled his face against Declan's chest. A thumb, brushed over the kneeling man's lips and Declan grinned, "Darkling, mine."
A kiss placed in the palm of Declan's hand, and Ashton answered, "Master man," with a laugh as Declan made to cover his mouth with a groan.
Brian laughed, coming back from the kitchen area of the loft. Handing Michael a drink, he sat down in one of the overstuffed leather chairs and pulled Michael down to sit with him in a tangle of limbs. "Completely incorrigible." He just waggled his eyebrows at Michael's whispered, "Pot-kettle-black."
Snorting at Brian's comment, Declan gave Ash a playful shove back to his seated position on the pillow beside Dec's chair. "Makes life that much more interesting." He adjusted his clothes a bit before leaning back relaxed, sated - a man at ease in his own world.
The four of them had settled together following events upstairs, Michael and Brian with a quick segue to the guest shower before redressing - Michael in a borrowed tee, and coming up to find Declan and Ash fooling around in the living room. Fooling around, well that led to more than fooling around, - which proved a fun show, and ironically a bit of tables turned following what they'd been doing only a short time before...
Brian was happily watching the interplay of their friends as the conversation turned to an old argument of when would Declan be entering into the new age by going digital with his equipment and cameras, rather than staying true to film. Ash's comment on the woes of serving Darkroom vs. Digital Declan had his Master pulling him over his knee to give him a good swat to the ass; much to the amusement of all when he just wiggled for more and got relegated to kneeling on the floor again.
Michael smiled, his head resting against Brian's shoulder, as he stayed quiet. Thoughtful. He'd been that way since they'd come down from the high of earlier events. So much so fast, it had him feeling winded. The night, the way it had turned out. First the pictures - that had been a surprise, true. But the months that had passed and the level of trust they'd come to find in both Dec and Ash were enough to have Michael little worried that anything bad would come as a result.
After all, it had been his idea that first time to be photographed by Declan as a gift for Brian. True enough that it had been done in a fairly anonymous fashion with his back to the camera for the end portrait. But there had been a random few with his face showing, a couple position and lighting changes where it was more than obvious that Michael was the subject. In the end though, Declan had taken the initiative in giving the negatives to Brian before they'd left his country home, Havenshire, so many months back.
Michael knew; it was imperative to Declan that he be trustworthy - both as a requirement of his profession as a therapist, and personally as a man who held so many roles. Master, lover, friend and guide. He'd proven that in both words and actions, time and again. So aside from the initial embarrassment of knowing he was being photographed in that moment, like that, Michael was quick in retrospect not to doubt the man or his motives.
No, that wasn't what had him so quiet. It was the other, Brian's words echoing through his head. The vehemence of them resounding as clear as when they'd first been said. Which had him asking, had Brian meant it? Or was it just said in the moment - all heat and no sense?
In the rush, Michael's reaction hadn't been one of conscious thought either. He'd just *felt* the words, their impact ricocheting through him in a wave of shock and joy. And now, in the hereafter of that - he was left with a head full of questions, which may or may not be irrelevant when he knew, as he'd known in the moment, that if Brian were to ask him - head clear and eyes wide open, again... Ultimately he already knew his answer.
"Mikeyyyy." Brian's voice calling him back from his thoughts, Michael looked up and then over at Dec and Ash.
"Sorry. Yes?"
Declan said, "Brian was telling us that you have plans for tomorrow."
Michael hugged his lover's arm as it tightened around his waist, "Yeah, we're watching Gus for Mel and Lindz." It was evident in his voice that he was looking forward to it, the child in Michael having found a partner in comic crime even at so young an age. Saturday was already looking to be filled with sandbox castles and cartoon marathons, with Brian being dragged along - begrudgingly loving it - the whole way.
Declan gave Ash's hair a playful tug, "Which means you'll be safe from this one's attempt at curry for lunch, then."
At Ashton's answering but sneaky glare, Brian opened his mouth to speak, but Michael looked up at him and shook his head. "Don't even try it. We promised the girls, and Gus."
Loving the fierce, albeit amused, determination on Michael's face, Brian pressed a kiss to his brow before rolling his eyes at their hosts. "They're ganging up on me, the pair of them. My two boys."
The affection in Brian's voice not lost to the room, Michael's smile grew as he glanced at Ash. The Englishman had a pleased look on his face, the two of them sharing a silent moment that ended with him giving Michael a wink. After all, there was value in what was heard, as well as what was said.
Ash turned to look up at Declan, giving his trousers a pull. He didn't say anything; just waited it seemed for Dec to answer back with a nod - the question having not been voiced, but asked all the same. Ashton bowed his head, the gesture one of thanks - and then shifted to lay it in Declan's lap. Resting there as his Master played with his hair.
Dec ran his fingers through the brown tresses, and over the length of his slave's neck. "Since we won't have the pleasure of your company tomorrow, tonight seems a good time to pose a question." He asked Brian, "How's your schedule looking over the second half of October?"
"Before or after I take my red cape and blue tights out of storage for the 31st?" Brian laughed as Michael gave him a rude nudge in the ribs, "Watch it Lois."
At Ash's murmured, "More like Peter and Wendy," Michael shook his head, grinning. "You're supposed to be on my side."
Declan tapped Ash on the forehead, saying, "We all are, Michael." Giving Brian a 'well' look, he asked, "Your schedule?"
Curious, Brian said, "Manageable, it's November into December that's an ad crunch." Timing campaigns to holidays usually meant the end of the year was an endless race set against an ever-faster ticking clock.
"One or two weeks, manageable?"
Thinking, details in mind, Brian nodded. "Possibly, yeah. I'm owed the time; I just came off a major play, so if I'm vying for time now rather than later at Thanksgiving or Christmas - it's more likely a go."
"Michael, how about you? Could you make arrangements for the store?"
"Uhm, well, I'd have to talk to Vic. He might be able to open, take the mornings. And Renny, she could come in after class to close." He turned looked at Brian, "She's been asking if she could put a hand in, since our Rage meetings usually end up getting interrupted by customers coming in and out."
Brian nodded, "Hire her on part-time, until she heads home for winter break." He knew it would help free up some more of Michael's time, a score for them both. And the time Michael and Renny did spend together could be more focused in on them finishing the next issue of Rage. The comic's first run featuring the new talents of Renny Magill, art student and comic book geek on a par to rival Michael on his best day thanks to her three older brothers and winner of the coveted Ashton Forster gold-star recommendation for graphic artist on the cusp of discovery.
Graphic being the operative word, considering they'd learned quickly enough that she was decidedly lacking in inhibition when it came to potential explicit storylines and gay sexuality. In her words, both topics were something of which she considered herself "a big fan."
Michael turned to Dec and Ash. "What are you planning?"
Declan laughed at Michael's cautious tone. "Nothing out-rightly nefarious; rather *we* - Ash and I - are going to be taking a small trip home. We're flying out at the end of the week, and thought it might be fun to invite you to come with."
Scrambling up with Brian groaning at misplaced elbows and knees, Michael asked excitedly, "London?" He climbed to sit astride Brian's lap, asking him, "We're going to London?"
Brian pulled at Michael's hips, grinning as he hugged his arms around Brian's neck. Eyes wide and bright, it was one of Michael's most endearing expressions. One almost guaranteed not to be denied. "Like I'd say no to that face," he groused fondly.
Ash's voice came, "Like you'd want to when we all know giving in is part of the fun."
Giving Ash's nearest nipple ring a tweak, Declan admonished, "You, hush." To Brian and Michael, "Scheduling, passports?"
Brian nodded, "We've got it; it's in the details." He felt Michael go still. Seeing him frown, Brian asked, "Mikey?"
Michael leaned in, speaking softly into Brian's ear. "Bri, I'm not sure, I mean with the store mortgage. Money..."
"Isn't an issue." Brian kissed Michael, effectively ending the futile protest. He ran his fingers over the line of Michael's jaw, enjoying the soft scratch of hair against his skin. He pulled back, face serious and voice firm. "Michael, it's a yes." His gaze shifted over Michael's shoulder to Declan, seeing the Irishman's warm smile. "Looks like we're crossing the pond."
TBC...
Would love to know what you think...
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