USQaf Fic: "Embraced..." - by Xof - Br/M - Part 7 of 15
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 7
- - - - - - -
“If the National is your gossip gallery, then this place is your… ” Brian stopped, as Ash jumped on his sentence before he could finish.
“It’s my playground. It’s everything I love. Art, history, life, death, the real and the surreal. It’s the world right on our doorsteps, from the Pharaohs to the Aztecs. And best of all, I know it like the back of my hand.”
The closer they came to the British Museum, the more alive and alight Ashton seemed to be. This place, whatever it held, Brian thought, must be anything but dry, at least seen through his friend’s eyes. Which in his own experience would be quite the change from the boring, dull ones he’d been dragged through by Lindsay back in their college days. Of course, those had little to do with the Brit Mu - or so Ashton was determined to prove.
“Hours and hours, almost every day I could after school, and then in university - this was my escape. I got to know a couple of the staff; after awhile, I even got tours of the stuff behind the scenes, things most never get to see. But it’s been awhile since I’ve visited so this feels like…. I don’t know.”
“Coming home?” Michael guessed.
“Yeah. It’s one of the places I most miss, and always want to come back to again.” He looked at Brian, “I’m a nutter, I told you. Just bear with, ok?”
Brian scratched a hand through his hair, looking up at the imposing structure before them as if he had to think on it - only to lose the false put-upon indecisive look when a smile came as he said, “I’m just here for the show, so lead on.”
And on he led, Michael and Brian following him into the world of wonder that was Ash's greatest hits of the Brit Mu. They started with the Egyptian collection, where Michael stopped to take pictures of every stone statue, dog- or cat-faced deity, mummy, sarcophagus and burial mask in their path. Brian wandered about, video camera in hand - mostly taking in the reactions of his lover and their friend as they weaved in and about the crowds, discovery lighting Michael’s eyes and fond nostalgia lightening Ashton’s heels.
“Look, look! Five legs,” Michael hurried over to one of a couple of winged sculptures that towered over them all. He looked back at Brian, smiling like he’d won a prize. “Bri, remember. The movie ‘Maurice’ - Emmett used to watch it all the time. That scene with Maurice and Alec Scudder.” Turning back, he looked at the nearest lion-like creature with a human head. “God, I’d forgotten. They filmed that here. Right here.”
“I remember he used to play it on a loop until his tape broke,” Brian shook his head. “But it looks like they were right, five legs.”
Ash reached up to touch the stone above the glass barrier surrounding the bottom of the one closest. “It’s so they always seem to be standing tall against evil, either from the front or the side. They were the guardians of the Assyrian kings.” He turned back. “There’s three of ’em, each almost three thousand years old.” Ash smiled at Brian’s camera, “They seem to embody mystical majesty, yes?”
Brian looked at them over the camera, grumbling out a quick biting, “Next,” even as he took the sting out with a wink.
Ash gave Michael a look, “Now that just proves it. Green is his color.”
Michael laughed. “What?”
“He’s an Irish jade, this one.” Ashton added a bit wisely, “A master of the game, all surface and shine to most but underneath….”
“Smoke and mirrors,” Michael finished.
Brian glared at the view screen, “Can we please move on before either of you start making me sound any more like the Wizard of Oz, or Harry Houdini?”
A shared grin between Michael and Ash, and then the Englishman clapped his hands. “Right, next the man says and next he’ll get.”
Next was a walk through the Grecian world. Bronze masks, bodies of marble and other stones, jewelry and every sort of object - from the mundane to the magnificent, thousands of years past and there for all to see. The most popular display, also the most prominently featured, being the Parthenon sculptures housed in a room opened to the sun through a large area skylight. “It’s so the marble won’t turn black,” Ash told them. It explained why this space was the brightest they’d seen so far, and the warmest. “In summer with all the tourists and the heat, it’s like walking through a sauna fully clothed.”
But for all his words, Ashton’s voice seemed almost reverent as they came to stand in front of the large featured remnants from the pediment of the Greek temple. “This one is Dionysus - God of wine.” The reclining nude was strong, beautiful - a celebration of the male form, now badly damaged by time. “He taught me a lot,” Ashton smiled. “But not as much as they did.” He nodded to the three goddesses nearby. “Hestia, Dione and Aphrodite - each one a master class for any sculptors worth their salt, I can tell you.” And they were, truly. The female form, naturalistic yet seductive, each framed within the stone waves of their sculpted diaphanous gowns.
Once they’d wandered throughout the main level, the three of them headed upstairs - walking through the ages as they went gallery to gallery. Though they did start with a bit of a laugh as Ash hurried into a gallery of prehistoric relics arranged in a display called “Objects of Power” - which mostly consisted of trinkets made of bone, except for one item which had Ash grinning before they’d even come to a stop in front of it. “Gentlemen, feast your eyes on the Brit Mu’s ten-thousand-year-old stone willy.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Michael nudged Brian as he made a point of zooming in close on the object with the camera. “I told you that you’d both end up talking about dicks today.”
They all laughed. Then Brian said, “Well, the sign does say Objects of Power.”
“I’d say a phallic fertility symbol made up of two folks having it off qualifies.”
Ash shook his head, “Okay, right this way to Viking spoils, medieval knick knacks and then back around to the Egyptian Funerary fun land!”
He was already off and walking, as Michael and Brian looked at each other. Brian was the one to say it first, “Funerary fun land?”
Michael couldn’t help but grin as he teased, “Last one there is a mummy’s uncle!” Then he took off after Ash at a near run, leaving Brian to follow with a look of fond amusement on his face and the words, “beautifully pathetic,” echoing in his mind.
- - -
Somewhere in the midst of the resulting skull and body parts count - after which none of them ended up knowing who was the more accurate - then a trip to the gift shop downstairs and a stop into the museum café to rest their feet, they found themselves making plans for the evening. Ashton wanted to show them his new favorite movie house. He figured a lazy night with sandwiches in, a film and then a ride through the wildly lit London night would be a good way to unwind.
“That’s the thing about being a tourist - you walk your feet off and spend way too much time trying to pack so much into so little time that you miss just the fun of *being* here, you know. I want you to enjoy the laidback approach, too. Just an evening to *be* rather than be on the go.”
"Sounds good," Michael agreed.
“We've got time to kill." Brian asked them, "So where else are you two dragging me before then?”
Michael laughed, shooting Ashton a look. "This one's his fault, I swear!"
Their friend waved that away, “Let’s put the inspiration where it’s due, with that wondrous woman that Misha calls mum.”
“Ma, or Mother, thank you.” Michael interrupted.
“Such manners,” Ashton tisked. “Anyway, as a tribute to Debbie’s packrat nature, I’ve planned a quick in and out visit to the former home of someone she’d find a kindred spirit." He paused, and then added, "Well, more like kindred on speed - if she’d been male - and rich - oh, and more eccentric times a hundred than she already is. And you get to tell her all about it.”
The tell-all event was to the home of one Sir John Soane, or rather to the museum that used to be his home, office and library. A famous architect who died in 1837, he’d left his house - or rather the space that used to be three houses that he’d conjoined and redesigned before his death - to the nation. Okay, maybe not to the nation, but to “amateurs and students” of his profession rather than to his own son, “supposedly such a disappointment,” Ash tushed. "But over the years the residence has been opened to any visitor who wants to step inside to take a free peek."
But a peek at what?
“Gentlemen, welcome to what I like to call the Clutter Club.” Ash waved Brian and Michael inside after a short time in line, grinning at the incredulous expressions that graced both their faces. Yes, even Brian’s.
“Shit, look at this.” Brian shook his head, “It’s like a yard sale blew up all over the place.”
Ash threw him a faux disapproving look, “A little respect, please.” Then he laughed, “I know they say one man’s garbage is another man’s gold, but look around. We’re talking antiques, artifacts, paintings, furniture, even skulls. You name it, he probably tried to buy it and hang it on his wall - thousands of things from floor to ceiling. Rooms, hallways, nooks - the man never had enough space.”
"That’s an understatement," Michael mused as they wandered around, milling in and out amongst the others tourists with eyes wide, thinking maybe they’d seen the last that could be a surprise, only to find still more around the next bend.
“Oh, and did I mention the sarcophagus in the basement?” Ashton whispered with his mouth half-covered like a kid telling a horror story by a campfire. He gave them a wink as he started down the stairs. Looking back, he called to them, “Guys, come on. Seti's waiting.” Below, they found the Sarcophagus of Seti I, c. 1370BC., to be exact. “It was one of Soane’s most prized possessions; something he used to show off during candle-lit parties with members of high society and the scholastic upper crust.”
“From king to coffee table,” Brian snorted, snickering as Michael gave him a little shove and a big, “Shhhh.”
"He's a bad one," Ash commiserated with Michael. "Bless."
"Big and bad, just like he likes me." Brian said in response, as Michael groaned and turned to leave them behind.
Ash teased Brian once Michael was out of earshot, "I think you're flunking serious-traveler-101."
"Yeah, but I have sufficient talents to compensate."
"I'll not argue that." Ash nodded Michael's way, "Shall we finish getting our sneak-a-peek on?"
This time it was Brian groaning as he walked away, a mischievous magpie of a man at his back.
- - -
The plan for sandwiches in changed once they got back to find that Declan was home. He agreed that the movie was a good idea, but once he heard where they were going - Dec voted for fish and chips at the theatre.
The *where* of where they were going turned out to be the newly renovated Electric Cinema.
"As opposed to what? The hand-crank generator cinema?" Brian asked.
The Electric was a large screen movie house, redecorated with modern home comfort and class in accent colors of red and white. Instead of theatre seats, it was outfitted with red leather armchairs - some even came with footrests and food trays. At the back, if one was lucky enough, there were even a couple of couches where viewers could cozy up in the dark while watching movies, both new and old.
Michael was surprise to see they had a restaurant inside, catering food that could be taken into the show. Somehow he'd thought Declan had meant they would be stopping in somewhere close by to eat before the film.
"They should do this more back home, with food other than just snacks," he smiled as he and Brian wandered back up into the lobby after the movie was over. "Course, being on the cleaning crew would suck." That's one summer job back in the Pitts during high school that he'd long since wanted to forget.
Brian dumped their trash, throwing an arm around Michael's shoulders. "Oh, I don't know. There's a certain balcony I'd miss." He watched as Michael looked at him, then down with a smile on his face that was both happy and embarrassed at the reference to their reclaimed space at one of the local cinemas in Pittsburgh.
There had been talk about it being torn down to build a multiplex, but at the last minute a group of investors had bought the property to renovate it so that it could act as both an active cinema and community playhouse. Brian and Michael had been quick to revisit one of their old favorite places of escape once it was reopened, with Brian serving up a few new distractions that had had Michael almost failing to bite back the noises drawn out of him by Brian's wandering hands.
Since then, *their* balcony had been the scene of more than one encounter - the pair of them doing what they could get away with as they added new memories to the old.
Outside, they found Declan and Ash waiting by a black cab. Declan gave the driver the address, as they all settled inside. "Ash tells me that tomorrow is Tower day."
Since Michael was too preoccupied staring out of the window at the lights of the city to answer, Brian said, "Apparently we're going to be doing the, what is it?"
Ash answered, "The dungeon crawl."
Teeth flashing white as he smiled while they rode past a neon sign, Declan nodded. "I suspect that's because this one," a nudge at Ashton's side, "thought it would be amusing to do a double-dip with visits to the Tower of London and the London Dungeon." When Ash tried to say something, Declan gave him a look that was both silent and strong, enough to cause Ashton to hush and move to sit on his hands in a way that seemed old hat, if a bit irksome given his expression.
Declan continued, "The Tower's a great place, so much history and pain within a compound that combines beautiful architecture with the glamour of jewels and bread-fed ravens. You should take the tour they offer. It's the best way to get the most out of it. But you," he told Ashton, “have a prior commitment.”
“I do?”
“With Evan, yes. You’ve a fitting come tomorrow morning.” Declan added, “You can meet up with them at the history horror fun park that is The London Dungeon in the afternoon.”
Michael gave Brian an inquiring look, but it was evident that he also wasn’t privy to any additional information as to Ashton’s coming absence. “Will you be away tomorrow?” he asked Declan. Their time with him had been kept mostly to nights since he’d been overseeing the coming show and the flood of details for the opening night party.
Declan nodded, “Yes, for a few hours. I would go with you - the Tower’s a favorite of mine - but time is short before Friday. And you’ll have much more fun at the London Dungeon with Ash’s youthful exuberance than my jaded nature. I just ended up shaking my head last time out.” He was grinning at the last, scratching at his beard a bit as he added, “Also, tomorrow night we’ll be leaving you both to your own devices.” He soothed his hand down Ash’s back, “The hours are short before I will leave, and long before Friday’s return I have plans for you.”
Michael watched as Ash closed his eyes on a smile, the enclosed cab seeming to grow warmer with just a few intimate words from Master to slave. Lover to beloved. He almost started when he felt Brian’s arm drawing him near once more, long fingers running down his neck as they traced the collar fastened as always around his throat, then again at the words spoken next to his ear. “He’s not the only one; I’ve plans enough for us both. Tonight, tomorrow. And that nice - big - bed.” A brush of his lips against Michael’s face with each of the last three words, and then a welcoming sound as Michael turned to meet them.
It was a time when what was on tap for tomorrow mattered not at all.
- - -
“One more, up here!”
“Mikey, I’m gonna be flash blind for life at this rate,” Brian groused.
“It’s daylight, we’re outside, and no, you won’t. Come on,” Michael laughed as he climbed the stairs to yet another level of the battlements of the outer Tower wall. “We’ve got to get the Tower Bridge in the background.”
Brian squinted against the oncoming sun as Michael managed, not for the first time today, to find a kind-hearted and, most importantly, honest fellow tourist to take possession of Brian's expensive digital camera so the two of them could get photographed together. Grinning, making faces or just smiling at each other with hundreds of years of pivotal English history surrounding them - the morning's photographs would fill whatever album or web page on which Michael chose to store them.
Since Brian had brought his video camera along again, he didn't have much room to complain. That hadn't stopped him, of course. He'd made up for it by training the lens on all of the choice sites that Michael was apt to point out as they roamed around the fortified castle grounds - the Traitors Gate, the White Tower, the site where Anne Boleyn lost her head and the armory display with its shining suits of armor and fairly outrageous ornate helmets. His lover had taken time to read up on this place almost more than any other that they'd be visiting on their vacation, so while they had taken the tour per Declan's recommendation, they'd also gone around on their own to absorb the feel of the place, the age of it.
The Tower stood as something striking, tall and defiant against the ravages of time in a busy city like modern-day London. Fantastic.
Even Brian found himself impressed by how much he'd enjoyed the visit. Of course his snark levels were set on high the whole while regardless, leaving very little verbally un-torched as he walked about having fun at the expense of the Beefeater Yeomen Warders in their dark blue and scarlet uniforms and the guards standing oh-so-still in their red coats and tall fur hats. It was a cliché, really - having a laugh at their expense, though the laugh Michael had made as the last guard broke rank for only a second to wink back at Brian's antics had made it a memorable event, and worth the effort.
The mood had been more somber once they'd reached the dungeon part of the tour. The instinct to make light in the face of fear was smothered as they walked along the displays of instruments that had been made to cause nothing but pain and death. The reality of what others had suffered through the whim of whoever was on the throne, or in the name of religion, was enough to have both Brian and Michael heading back into the warm light and cool breeze of the English day.
Not that their sense of frivolity had been so squashed that they didn't leave the Royal Jewels display laughing. How could a person not laugh when they were made to stand on a conveyor belt and literally whizzed by the clear fortified glass cases with little time to do much looking, or have much of an impression other than, "Ohhh, shiny," as Michael kept joking afterwards? It was like some episode of ‘I Love Lucy’ where the tourists were the chocolates being endangered by a mad dash to the ground should the contraption go amiss.
They both knew that Michael would end up buying a book on the Tower that featured color photos of the locale and the sparkles for their friends to gawk at once they got home, just like he'd done from the gift shops at the National and the Brit Mu. Ash had suggested keeping them as coffee table conversation pieces, saying there was the personal side of travel with the pictures they took themselves, and the presentation side - hence the travel books.
Michael thought it was a great idea. Brian thought having them would be good, but was already plotting their shelving on the bookshelves he'd had installed when Michael had come to live with him in the loft. He was still working on the compromise between his minimalist esthetic and Michael's Deb-induced packrat habits. They'd done a good job of working out a system of what went where, but there were still times when each of them made a game out of teasing the other about one steadfast habit or another.
"See, all done." Michael got a quick peck on the cheek from the young woman who handed him back the camera after taking their picture, which had Brian whistling after she got out of earshot.
"Michael Novotny, lady's man."
"Shut up," Michael gave him a bit of one-handed shove, only to have Brian grab his wrist and pull him close.
"Uhnn uhh. Play nice," Brian said, leaning in to add, "Or I may have to warm that hot, cute little ass she was ogling behind your back."
Maybe at another time, Michael would have said something smart back, but Brian's tone, his voice sugared rough but sweet like velvet, chased the impulse away, because the man meant it. And just the thought of Brian's hand rubbing his skin as it burned from what that hand had just done to him, for him... "I, I uhm...” He paused, the sound of the passing crowds coming back into focus as Brian stepped away, grinning. "Hungry, I'm... Yeah, hungry. Lunch?"
"I've a bit of an appetite, sure." The tease was back in his voice, but Brian nodded down into the courtyard below. "But first, aren't you forgetting?"
Michael frowned, then he remembered. "Oh fuck, teddy bear run!"
"Exactly."
There was a Beefeater bear in both Michael and Gus' futures, just a gift shop away.
- - -
The London Dungeon was very much as Declan had described it, a horror fun house that covered English history and some of its most gruesome events, emphasis on gruesome but with the frivolity of a haunted house on Halloween. A venue at which people paid to have themselves scared silly.
It was the direct opposite of the Tower's dungeon atmosphere, all somber and serious. No, the London Dungeon meant to put on a show and often times Brian found himself snorting as both Michael and Ash jumped at the antics of those on staff, and the kids that were running about screaming one moment only to laugh the next.
And in the end, even Brian was pulled in by it all - begrudgingly posing with Michael, the both of them imprisoned in stockades for a photograph. Locked in at wrists and neck and grinning as they shared a look that spoke to a memory of them with their heads stuck through cardboard neck holes of Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad at the last Comicon they'd been too.
Michael's smile was even brighter than it had been on that day that seemed so very long ago.
Brian's had changed, lacking the relief he'd been feeling then at having managed to say the right words to keep Michael in his life. In its place was a gladness that shone through, both from being with Michael and from having him in all the ways he'd almost robbed them of because of his pride, and the power of both their doubts.
New smiles for a new life.
"Smile for the dirty birdie," Ash called.
*click*
- - -
Ashton, when he did appear out of his bedroom the next day, was quiet. Soft spoken as he made eggs and tipped off Brian and Michael's coffee. His natural energetic demeanor quite subdued, sub being the operative word.
"Where's Declan?"
"Left early," Ash said. "Before I was up." He paused, then added, "He wanted me to thank you, both, for going with me today. He said knowing I will be able to share the experience with you, rather than doing it alone, is something he appreciates."
Michael came around the counter, giving him a hug. "Thank you back. And him. I'm glad you want to have us with you. I've never seen someone getting tattooed."
Brian smiled, "That's because you've been fascinated but scared by it at the same time. Ever since high school, remember."
“Don’t you say it.”
“Whatever could you mean?” Brian asked, then just as quickly added, “Jamie Crowley, Leo Tillman, aaaaaand...”
Michael tried to cover Brian’s mouth, but couldn’t reach him as Brian finished with, “John Cohen.”
Groaning, Michael grumbled, “Bastard,” as Brian pulled him in despite his struggle to get away.
Ashton was smiling, the seriousness cracked by the catharsis of a good laugh. “What’s this now?”
Brian gave Michael a squeeze. “Just three unworthy objects of Michael’s teenage affections. Each and every one, inked in ways that drew the eye.”
Michael told him to hush, “If it gets told, I’m telling.”
Chuckling into Michael’s messed up bed-head hair, Brian complied.
An embarrassed half-smile to Ashton, and Michael said, “Long story short. They were jocks, football. Upperclassmen. Sports clique types. Each of them celebrated their eighteenth birthday by getting trashed and then hitting the tattoo parlors.”
Brian nudged him, “And… ”
“Aaaand, they were trust-fund brats. Great to look at, but,” he stopped, looking a bit reflective and sad. “Anyway. They got the tattoos done in places so their folks couldn’t see. Hips, lower backs. Used to show ’em off after gym class for all to see.”
Ashton quirked his head to the side a little, looking thoughtful. “Good looking, but what?”
Michael didn’t say, he just glanced down. Brian could feel him drawing into himself, so he answered instead. “But dangerous, as in homophobic pricks who made picking on anyone that wasn’t like them a pastime.” When Michael tried to move away, Brian hugged him from behind. “Hey, hey. It’s ok. I sorted it, right?”
“Yeah, black eyes and all,” Michael snorted. He leaned against him and looked at Ash. “Anyway, it was just stupid in the end. I was fascinated by the designs. Talked about them, probably too much. It was just something I’d wondered about, but didn’t dare think to do, you know?” A smile came into his eyes, and across his face. He looked back at Brian. “I told Ted and Emmett you had a tattoo, once. Drove ’em nuts trying to figure out where you could have possibly hidden it. Mr. Exhibitionist.”
“That’s right, give ’em more of an excuse to ogle me at the gym. You should sell tickets at the shower room door.” Brian laughed. “You’d make a mint.”
“Please, why would they pay for a show they can see for free?” Michael dodged Brian’s hold, slapping playfully at his reaching hands.
“I’m not the only one they’re looking at, smartass.”
Now it was Ash’s turn to shake his head. “You two are just too cute.”
His mood had lightened, they could tell. So Michael hazarded to ask, “What time is your appointment?”
“Just after lunch.” Ash looked over at the digital clock display on the stove. “Tell you what, we’ve got time to make a run over to the London Eye beforehand. It’s supposed to rain later today, but it’s clear now. Should be a good view of the city.”
“Deal!” Michael had been looking forward to riding on the Eye ever since Ashton had shared stories of a wine tasting he and Declan had attended there a while back. The Ferris wheel overlooked the whole of greater London. Half an hour in the sky.
Brian nodded, then reached up to run his fingers through Michael’s tangled hair. “Better try and tame this mop first.” He grinned when Michael made an offhanded comment about him needing to look in a mirror before he talked about other folks’ bed head.
“I could just get it cut.”
“The hell you will.” Brian called out after his retreating lover’s back as Michael left to walk back to their bedroom.
“Who made you the hair sheriff,” Michael answered back.
“You did.” Brian laughed as Ashton smiled at their antics. “Back in a few.”
“Says you,” the Englishman replied. “But I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt.”
“Fifteen minutes, or I’m buying lunch,” Brian assured.
“Ohh, and I’ll be sure to work up an expensive appetite while I change clothes, then.” Ashton set off down the hall with all the confidence of a man who knew he’d already won the bet.
- - -
With grudging amusement, Brian paid up on his lost bet before they left the restaurant for Ash’s appointment.
“Fortune Foster,” Brian groused as they exited the cab. “Where are we now?” He looked around. “First you threaten us with Hungarian food at the, what was it?”
“Gay Hussy.” Michael answered.
“That's the Gay Hussar, actually. And I was just teasing, wasn’t I?” Ash smirked. They’d ended up having Italian instead, after leaving the Eye. “And like it says on the glass, love, this is Hugh’s place.” He pointed to the lettering there which spelled out, “Hughlon Miles Studio.”
"How can a tattoo parlor be so non-descript that you can't even tell it's a tattoo parlor?" Brian asked.
"Because his main living comes from his graphic art and painting commissions. The tattoos are a sideline. But he's so good at it, he's built up a client base just on word of mouth. I've known him for ages. We were at school." Ash pulled open the glass door and waved Brian and Michael inside. "Hugh! Stop sniffing paint and come give us a squeeze!"
The gallery was empty, which is probably why the owner yelled out from the back, "For the love of god, you've got a gob on you to rival a fishwife's any day."
An answering call from Ash, "Annie'll kick your arse, if you keep talking about her that way."
"Like she'd need the excuse, ya mongrel.” It was a gruff voice, one to match the man who came up from the back. He looked as strong as a mountain, and tall as a tree. Well, nearly. He dwarfed everyone in the room except Brian, and still he had a few inches on him as well. He was a striking figure all around, with merry green eyes and dark brown hair that was offset with a touch of ginger in his closely styled beard. Hugh walked in quick strides towards them, giving Ash a hug that almost took him off his feet. “I’ve said it, and she’d agree. You’ve been gone from us way too long, ya scamp.”
Gasping a bit for air, Ashton spent what little he had left in a laugh. “I just saw you both only a few months back.”
Another squeeze, and Hugh drew back - his smile bringing a glow to his cheeks and a shine to his eyes. “As if that was having ya home, one dinner and then off with ya and that man of yours on the go again and again.”
Ash nodded, but then asked, “Is Annie here?”
“No, and she’ll be kicking herself for missing ya. Especially tomorrow night, but with her mum just out of hospital - she’ll be in Blackpool for a fair few days or weeks.”
Looking worried, Ash said, “I thought her mum was in remission.”
Hugh nodded, “That she is, but then if she didn’t take a spill in the garden and fracture her leg. I tell ya, it’s been a hell of a year.”
Ash agreed, “True. Please give her our love, okay?” He looked over. “Hugh, this is Brian and Michael. They’re visiting with us for a couple of weeks.”
Michael smiled as Hugh shook his hand, then Brian’s. “We’re the moral support tagalongs.”
Ash tutted, "Not a wit." He looked at Hugh, his face serious as he said, "They've fast become family."
The words held a meaning that was clear from the expression on Hugh's face, as if they weren't something said often but it was clear they held weight. "Then it's glad I am to know you," he said. He patted Ashton on the back, "So we're doing this then?" At his friend's happy nod, Hugh pulled out his keys. "All right, head on back and I'll lock up."
Ash led Michael and Brian through the gallery and into Hugh’s workroom, which proved an odd mix of separate spaces set aside for easels, sketch tables and then the section that would matter most for their afternoon. The tattoo area was outfitted with a lift chair that swiveled and a body-length, padded table - both upholstered in black leather with chrome accents. Between them was a rolling chair and what must be the tattoo equipment. Against one wall, there was a matching sofa, a computer system set on a counter to one side and a sound system standing beside it. The adjacent wall was partially covered with a floor to ceiling mirror, so that the work area could be seen from the sofa and either the chair or table. The section not covered by mirror was banked by custom made black module with cabinets on top, more counter space and drawers down to the floor with all handles again made of chrome.
Ashton reached into the jacket he was wearing and pulled out a computer disc. "Mood music, check." He tossed the coat over the back of the lift chair, and then kicked off his shoes. "Last time, Declan brought a CD with him that just played on repeat, over and over until they were done. I thought Hugh was gonna crawl into a ball if he had to hear one more Billie Holiday song." He laughed, "He was a bit of a punk in his day."
"Give me a song you can't and wouldn't want to dance to," Hugh's voice preceded him into the room.
"It can't all be the Sex Pistols," Ashton smiled.
Hugh protested, "Now, I've a broader mind than that. Give a poor man some credit."
Brian and Michael sat on the sofa as Ash headed for Hugh's computer. "Same password?"
"Yeah, 'anniesfanny' as always." He grinned when Michael laughed. "I'm a man with a one track mind."
Ash put the disc in, set the media player to shuffle and hit play. The room filled with the first of a mix he'd told them earlier was a selection of both his and Declan’s favorites. Ashton wanted the room relaxed, happy and full of memories of how they'd come so far. "Scene’s set."
Hugh clapped his hands together and rubbed, “Time to play.”
TBC...
Would love to know what you think...
Hugs
xof
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 7
- - - - - - -
“If the National is your gossip gallery, then this place is your… ” Brian stopped, as Ash jumped on his sentence before he could finish.
“It’s my playground. It’s everything I love. Art, history, life, death, the real and the surreal. It’s the world right on our doorsteps, from the Pharaohs to the Aztecs. And best of all, I know it like the back of my hand.”
The closer they came to the British Museum, the more alive and alight Ashton seemed to be. This place, whatever it held, Brian thought, must be anything but dry, at least seen through his friend’s eyes. Which in his own experience would be quite the change from the boring, dull ones he’d been dragged through by Lindsay back in their college days. Of course, those had little to do with the Brit Mu - or so Ashton was determined to prove.
“Hours and hours, almost every day I could after school, and then in university - this was my escape. I got to know a couple of the staff; after awhile, I even got tours of the stuff behind the scenes, things most never get to see. But it’s been awhile since I’ve visited so this feels like…. I don’t know.”
“Coming home?” Michael guessed.
“Yeah. It’s one of the places I most miss, and always want to come back to again.” He looked at Brian, “I’m a nutter, I told you. Just bear with, ok?”
Brian scratched a hand through his hair, looking up at the imposing structure before them as if he had to think on it - only to lose the false put-upon indecisive look when a smile came as he said, “I’m just here for the show, so lead on.”
And on he led, Michael and Brian following him into the world of wonder that was Ash's greatest hits of the Brit Mu. They started with the Egyptian collection, where Michael stopped to take pictures of every stone statue, dog- or cat-faced deity, mummy, sarcophagus and burial mask in their path. Brian wandered about, video camera in hand - mostly taking in the reactions of his lover and their friend as they weaved in and about the crowds, discovery lighting Michael’s eyes and fond nostalgia lightening Ashton’s heels.
“Look, look! Five legs,” Michael hurried over to one of a couple of winged sculptures that towered over them all. He looked back at Brian, smiling like he’d won a prize. “Bri, remember. The movie ‘Maurice’ - Emmett used to watch it all the time. That scene with Maurice and Alec Scudder.” Turning back, he looked at the nearest lion-like creature with a human head. “God, I’d forgotten. They filmed that here. Right here.”
“I remember he used to play it on a loop until his tape broke,” Brian shook his head. “But it looks like they were right, five legs.”
Ash reached up to touch the stone above the glass barrier surrounding the bottom of the one closest. “It’s so they always seem to be standing tall against evil, either from the front or the side. They were the guardians of the Assyrian kings.” He turned back. “There’s three of ’em, each almost three thousand years old.” Ash smiled at Brian’s camera, “They seem to embody mystical majesty, yes?”
Brian looked at them over the camera, grumbling out a quick biting, “Next,” even as he took the sting out with a wink.
Ash gave Michael a look, “Now that just proves it. Green is his color.”
Michael laughed. “What?”
“He’s an Irish jade, this one.” Ashton added a bit wisely, “A master of the game, all surface and shine to most but underneath….”
“Smoke and mirrors,” Michael finished.
Brian glared at the view screen, “Can we please move on before either of you start making me sound any more like the Wizard of Oz, or Harry Houdini?”
A shared grin between Michael and Ash, and then the Englishman clapped his hands. “Right, next the man says and next he’ll get.”
Next was a walk through the Grecian world. Bronze masks, bodies of marble and other stones, jewelry and every sort of object - from the mundane to the magnificent, thousands of years past and there for all to see. The most popular display, also the most prominently featured, being the Parthenon sculptures housed in a room opened to the sun through a large area skylight. “It’s so the marble won’t turn black,” Ash told them. It explained why this space was the brightest they’d seen so far, and the warmest. “In summer with all the tourists and the heat, it’s like walking through a sauna fully clothed.”
But for all his words, Ashton’s voice seemed almost reverent as they came to stand in front of the large featured remnants from the pediment of the Greek temple. “This one is Dionysus - God of wine.” The reclining nude was strong, beautiful - a celebration of the male form, now badly damaged by time. “He taught me a lot,” Ashton smiled. “But not as much as they did.” He nodded to the three goddesses nearby. “Hestia, Dione and Aphrodite - each one a master class for any sculptors worth their salt, I can tell you.” And they were, truly. The female form, naturalistic yet seductive, each framed within the stone waves of their sculpted diaphanous gowns.
Once they’d wandered throughout the main level, the three of them headed upstairs - walking through the ages as they went gallery to gallery. Though they did start with a bit of a laugh as Ash hurried into a gallery of prehistoric relics arranged in a display called “Objects of Power” - which mostly consisted of trinkets made of bone, except for one item which had Ash grinning before they’d even come to a stop in front of it. “Gentlemen, feast your eyes on the Brit Mu’s ten-thousand-year-old stone willy.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Michael nudged Brian as he made a point of zooming in close on the object with the camera. “I told you that you’d both end up talking about dicks today.”
They all laughed. Then Brian said, “Well, the sign does say Objects of Power.”
“I’d say a phallic fertility symbol made up of two folks having it off qualifies.”
Ash shook his head, “Okay, right this way to Viking spoils, medieval knick knacks and then back around to the Egyptian Funerary fun land!”
He was already off and walking, as Michael and Brian looked at each other. Brian was the one to say it first, “Funerary fun land?”
Michael couldn’t help but grin as he teased, “Last one there is a mummy’s uncle!” Then he took off after Ash at a near run, leaving Brian to follow with a look of fond amusement on his face and the words, “beautifully pathetic,” echoing in his mind.
- - -
Somewhere in the midst of the resulting skull and body parts count - after which none of them ended up knowing who was the more accurate - then a trip to the gift shop downstairs and a stop into the museum café to rest their feet, they found themselves making plans for the evening. Ashton wanted to show them his new favorite movie house. He figured a lazy night with sandwiches in, a film and then a ride through the wildly lit London night would be a good way to unwind.
“That’s the thing about being a tourist - you walk your feet off and spend way too much time trying to pack so much into so little time that you miss just the fun of *being* here, you know. I want you to enjoy the laidback approach, too. Just an evening to *be* rather than be on the go.”
"Sounds good," Michael agreed.
“We've got time to kill." Brian asked them, "So where else are you two dragging me before then?”
Michael laughed, shooting Ashton a look. "This one's his fault, I swear!"
Their friend waved that away, “Let’s put the inspiration where it’s due, with that wondrous woman that Misha calls mum.”
“Ma, or Mother, thank you.” Michael interrupted.
“Such manners,” Ashton tisked. “Anyway, as a tribute to Debbie’s packrat nature, I’ve planned a quick in and out visit to the former home of someone she’d find a kindred spirit." He paused, and then added, "Well, more like kindred on speed - if she’d been male - and rich - oh, and more eccentric times a hundred than she already is. And you get to tell her all about it.”
The tell-all event was to the home of one Sir John Soane, or rather to the museum that used to be his home, office and library. A famous architect who died in 1837, he’d left his house - or rather the space that used to be three houses that he’d conjoined and redesigned before his death - to the nation. Okay, maybe not to the nation, but to “amateurs and students” of his profession rather than to his own son, “supposedly such a disappointment,” Ash tushed. "But over the years the residence has been opened to any visitor who wants to step inside to take a free peek."
But a peek at what?
“Gentlemen, welcome to what I like to call the Clutter Club.” Ash waved Brian and Michael inside after a short time in line, grinning at the incredulous expressions that graced both their faces. Yes, even Brian’s.
“Shit, look at this.” Brian shook his head, “It’s like a yard sale blew up all over the place.”
Ash threw him a faux disapproving look, “A little respect, please.” Then he laughed, “I know they say one man’s garbage is another man’s gold, but look around. We’re talking antiques, artifacts, paintings, furniture, even skulls. You name it, he probably tried to buy it and hang it on his wall - thousands of things from floor to ceiling. Rooms, hallways, nooks - the man never had enough space.”
"That’s an understatement," Michael mused as they wandered around, milling in and out amongst the others tourists with eyes wide, thinking maybe they’d seen the last that could be a surprise, only to find still more around the next bend.
“Oh, and did I mention the sarcophagus in the basement?” Ashton whispered with his mouth half-covered like a kid telling a horror story by a campfire. He gave them a wink as he started down the stairs. Looking back, he called to them, “Guys, come on. Seti's waiting.” Below, they found the Sarcophagus of Seti I, c. 1370BC., to be exact. “It was one of Soane’s most prized possessions; something he used to show off during candle-lit parties with members of high society and the scholastic upper crust.”
“From king to coffee table,” Brian snorted, snickering as Michael gave him a little shove and a big, “Shhhh.”
"He's a bad one," Ash commiserated with Michael. "Bless."
"Big and bad, just like he likes me." Brian said in response, as Michael groaned and turned to leave them behind.
Ash teased Brian once Michael was out of earshot, "I think you're flunking serious-traveler-101."
"Yeah, but I have sufficient talents to compensate."
"I'll not argue that." Ash nodded Michael's way, "Shall we finish getting our sneak-a-peek on?"
This time it was Brian groaning as he walked away, a mischievous magpie of a man at his back.
- - -
The plan for sandwiches in changed once they got back to find that Declan was home. He agreed that the movie was a good idea, but once he heard where they were going - Dec voted for fish and chips at the theatre.
The *where* of where they were going turned out to be the newly renovated Electric Cinema.
"As opposed to what? The hand-crank generator cinema?" Brian asked.
The Electric was a large screen movie house, redecorated with modern home comfort and class in accent colors of red and white. Instead of theatre seats, it was outfitted with red leather armchairs - some even came with footrests and food trays. At the back, if one was lucky enough, there were even a couple of couches where viewers could cozy up in the dark while watching movies, both new and old.
Michael was surprise to see they had a restaurant inside, catering food that could be taken into the show. Somehow he'd thought Declan had meant they would be stopping in somewhere close by to eat before the film.
"They should do this more back home, with food other than just snacks," he smiled as he and Brian wandered back up into the lobby after the movie was over. "Course, being on the cleaning crew would suck." That's one summer job back in the Pitts during high school that he'd long since wanted to forget.
Brian dumped their trash, throwing an arm around Michael's shoulders. "Oh, I don't know. There's a certain balcony I'd miss." He watched as Michael looked at him, then down with a smile on his face that was both happy and embarrassed at the reference to their reclaimed space at one of the local cinemas in Pittsburgh.
There had been talk about it being torn down to build a multiplex, but at the last minute a group of investors had bought the property to renovate it so that it could act as both an active cinema and community playhouse. Brian and Michael had been quick to revisit one of their old favorite places of escape once it was reopened, with Brian serving up a few new distractions that had had Michael almost failing to bite back the noises drawn out of him by Brian's wandering hands.
Since then, *their* balcony had been the scene of more than one encounter - the pair of them doing what they could get away with as they added new memories to the old.
Outside, they found Declan and Ash waiting by a black cab. Declan gave the driver the address, as they all settled inside. "Ash tells me that tomorrow is Tower day."
Since Michael was too preoccupied staring out of the window at the lights of the city to answer, Brian said, "Apparently we're going to be doing the, what is it?"
Ash answered, "The dungeon crawl."
Teeth flashing white as he smiled while they rode past a neon sign, Declan nodded. "I suspect that's because this one," a nudge at Ashton's side, "thought it would be amusing to do a double-dip with visits to the Tower of London and the London Dungeon." When Ash tried to say something, Declan gave him a look that was both silent and strong, enough to cause Ashton to hush and move to sit on his hands in a way that seemed old hat, if a bit irksome given his expression.
Declan continued, "The Tower's a great place, so much history and pain within a compound that combines beautiful architecture with the glamour of jewels and bread-fed ravens. You should take the tour they offer. It's the best way to get the most out of it. But you," he told Ashton, “have a prior commitment.”
“I do?”
“With Evan, yes. You’ve a fitting come tomorrow morning.” Declan added, “You can meet up with them at the history horror fun park that is The London Dungeon in the afternoon.”
Michael gave Brian an inquiring look, but it was evident that he also wasn’t privy to any additional information as to Ashton’s coming absence. “Will you be away tomorrow?” he asked Declan. Their time with him had been kept mostly to nights since he’d been overseeing the coming show and the flood of details for the opening night party.
Declan nodded, “Yes, for a few hours. I would go with you - the Tower’s a favorite of mine - but time is short before Friday. And you’ll have much more fun at the London Dungeon with Ash’s youthful exuberance than my jaded nature. I just ended up shaking my head last time out.” He was grinning at the last, scratching at his beard a bit as he added, “Also, tomorrow night we’ll be leaving you both to your own devices.” He soothed his hand down Ash’s back, “The hours are short before I will leave, and long before Friday’s return I have plans for you.”
Michael watched as Ash closed his eyes on a smile, the enclosed cab seeming to grow warmer with just a few intimate words from Master to slave. Lover to beloved. He almost started when he felt Brian’s arm drawing him near once more, long fingers running down his neck as they traced the collar fastened as always around his throat, then again at the words spoken next to his ear. “He’s not the only one; I’ve plans enough for us both. Tonight, tomorrow. And that nice - big - bed.” A brush of his lips against Michael’s face with each of the last three words, and then a welcoming sound as Michael turned to meet them.
It was a time when what was on tap for tomorrow mattered not at all.
- - -
“One more, up here!”
“Mikey, I’m gonna be flash blind for life at this rate,” Brian groused.
“It’s daylight, we’re outside, and no, you won’t. Come on,” Michael laughed as he climbed the stairs to yet another level of the battlements of the outer Tower wall. “We’ve got to get the Tower Bridge in the background.”
Brian squinted against the oncoming sun as Michael managed, not for the first time today, to find a kind-hearted and, most importantly, honest fellow tourist to take possession of Brian's expensive digital camera so the two of them could get photographed together. Grinning, making faces or just smiling at each other with hundreds of years of pivotal English history surrounding them - the morning's photographs would fill whatever album or web page on which Michael chose to store them.
Since Brian had brought his video camera along again, he didn't have much room to complain. That hadn't stopped him, of course. He'd made up for it by training the lens on all of the choice sites that Michael was apt to point out as they roamed around the fortified castle grounds - the Traitors Gate, the White Tower, the site where Anne Boleyn lost her head and the armory display with its shining suits of armor and fairly outrageous ornate helmets. His lover had taken time to read up on this place almost more than any other that they'd be visiting on their vacation, so while they had taken the tour per Declan's recommendation, they'd also gone around on their own to absorb the feel of the place, the age of it.
The Tower stood as something striking, tall and defiant against the ravages of time in a busy city like modern-day London. Fantastic.
Even Brian found himself impressed by how much he'd enjoyed the visit. Of course his snark levels were set on high the whole while regardless, leaving very little verbally un-torched as he walked about having fun at the expense of the Beefeater Yeomen Warders in their dark blue and scarlet uniforms and the guards standing oh-so-still in their red coats and tall fur hats. It was a cliché, really - having a laugh at their expense, though the laugh Michael had made as the last guard broke rank for only a second to wink back at Brian's antics had made it a memorable event, and worth the effort.
The mood had been more somber once they'd reached the dungeon part of the tour. The instinct to make light in the face of fear was smothered as they walked along the displays of instruments that had been made to cause nothing but pain and death. The reality of what others had suffered through the whim of whoever was on the throne, or in the name of religion, was enough to have both Brian and Michael heading back into the warm light and cool breeze of the English day.
Not that their sense of frivolity had been so squashed that they didn't leave the Royal Jewels display laughing. How could a person not laugh when they were made to stand on a conveyor belt and literally whizzed by the clear fortified glass cases with little time to do much looking, or have much of an impression other than, "Ohhh, shiny," as Michael kept joking afterwards? It was like some episode of ‘I Love Lucy’ where the tourists were the chocolates being endangered by a mad dash to the ground should the contraption go amiss.
They both knew that Michael would end up buying a book on the Tower that featured color photos of the locale and the sparkles for their friends to gawk at once they got home, just like he'd done from the gift shops at the National and the Brit Mu. Ash had suggested keeping them as coffee table conversation pieces, saying there was the personal side of travel with the pictures they took themselves, and the presentation side - hence the travel books.
Michael thought it was a great idea. Brian thought having them would be good, but was already plotting their shelving on the bookshelves he'd had installed when Michael had come to live with him in the loft. He was still working on the compromise between his minimalist esthetic and Michael's Deb-induced packrat habits. They'd done a good job of working out a system of what went where, but there were still times when each of them made a game out of teasing the other about one steadfast habit or another.
"See, all done." Michael got a quick peck on the cheek from the young woman who handed him back the camera after taking their picture, which had Brian whistling after she got out of earshot.
"Michael Novotny, lady's man."
"Shut up," Michael gave him a bit of one-handed shove, only to have Brian grab his wrist and pull him close.
"Uhnn uhh. Play nice," Brian said, leaning in to add, "Or I may have to warm that hot, cute little ass she was ogling behind your back."
Maybe at another time, Michael would have said something smart back, but Brian's tone, his voice sugared rough but sweet like velvet, chased the impulse away, because the man meant it. And just the thought of Brian's hand rubbing his skin as it burned from what that hand had just done to him, for him... "I, I uhm...” He paused, the sound of the passing crowds coming back into focus as Brian stepped away, grinning. "Hungry, I'm... Yeah, hungry. Lunch?"
"I've a bit of an appetite, sure." The tease was back in his voice, but Brian nodded down into the courtyard below. "But first, aren't you forgetting?"
Michael frowned, then he remembered. "Oh fuck, teddy bear run!"
"Exactly."
There was a Beefeater bear in both Michael and Gus' futures, just a gift shop away.
- - -
The London Dungeon was very much as Declan had described it, a horror fun house that covered English history and some of its most gruesome events, emphasis on gruesome but with the frivolity of a haunted house on Halloween. A venue at which people paid to have themselves scared silly.
It was the direct opposite of the Tower's dungeon atmosphere, all somber and serious. No, the London Dungeon meant to put on a show and often times Brian found himself snorting as both Michael and Ash jumped at the antics of those on staff, and the kids that were running about screaming one moment only to laugh the next.
And in the end, even Brian was pulled in by it all - begrudgingly posing with Michael, the both of them imprisoned in stockades for a photograph. Locked in at wrists and neck and grinning as they shared a look that spoke to a memory of them with their heads stuck through cardboard neck holes of Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad at the last Comicon they'd been too.
Michael's smile was even brighter than it had been on that day that seemed so very long ago.
Brian's had changed, lacking the relief he'd been feeling then at having managed to say the right words to keep Michael in his life. In its place was a gladness that shone through, both from being with Michael and from having him in all the ways he'd almost robbed them of because of his pride, and the power of both their doubts.
New smiles for a new life.
"Smile for the dirty birdie," Ash called.
*click*
- - -
Ashton, when he did appear out of his bedroom the next day, was quiet. Soft spoken as he made eggs and tipped off Brian and Michael's coffee. His natural energetic demeanor quite subdued, sub being the operative word.
"Where's Declan?"
"Left early," Ash said. "Before I was up." He paused, then added, "He wanted me to thank you, both, for going with me today. He said knowing I will be able to share the experience with you, rather than doing it alone, is something he appreciates."
Michael came around the counter, giving him a hug. "Thank you back. And him. I'm glad you want to have us with you. I've never seen someone getting tattooed."
Brian smiled, "That's because you've been fascinated but scared by it at the same time. Ever since high school, remember."
“Don’t you say it.”
“Whatever could you mean?” Brian asked, then just as quickly added, “Jamie Crowley, Leo Tillman, aaaaaand...”
Michael tried to cover Brian’s mouth, but couldn’t reach him as Brian finished with, “John Cohen.”
Groaning, Michael grumbled, “Bastard,” as Brian pulled him in despite his struggle to get away.
Ashton was smiling, the seriousness cracked by the catharsis of a good laugh. “What’s this now?”
Brian gave Michael a squeeze. “Just three unworthy objects of Michael’s teenage affections. Each and every one, inked in ways that drew the eye.”
Michael told him to hush, “If it gets told, I’m telling.”
Chuckling into Michael’s messed up bed-head hair, Brian complied.
An embarrassed half-smile to Ashton, and Michael said, “Long story short. They were jocks, football. Upperclassmen. Sports clique types. Each of them celebrated their eighteenth birthday by getting trashed and then hitting the tattoo parlors.”
Brian nudged him, “And… ”
“Aaaand, they were trust-fund brats. Great to look at, but,” he stopped, looking a bit reflective and sad. “Anyway. They got the tattoos done in places so their folks couldn’t see. Hips, lower backs. Used to show ’em off after gym class for all to see.”
Ashton quirked his head to the side a little, looking thoughtful. “Good looking, but what?”
Michael didn’t say, he just glanced down. Brian could feel him drawing into himself, so he answered instead. “But dangerous, as in homophobic pricks who made picking on anyone that wasn’t like them a pastime.” When Michael tried to move away, Brian hugged him from behind. “Hey, hey. It’s ok. I sorted it, right?”
“Yeah, black eyes and all,” Michael snorted. He leaned against him and looked at Ash. “Anyway, it was just stupid in the end. I was fascinated by the designs. Talked about them, probably too much. It was just something I’d wondered about, but didn’t dare think to do, you know?” A smile came into his eyes, and across his face. He looked back at Brian. “I told Ted and Emmett you had a tattoo, once. Drove ’em nuts trying to figure out where you could have possibly hidden it. Mr. Exhibitionist.”
“That’s right, give ’em more of an excuse to ogle me at the gym. You should sell tickets at the shower room door.” Brian laughed. “You’d make a mint.”
“Please, why would they pay for a show they can see for free?” Michael dodged Brian’s hold, slapping playfully at his reaching hands.
“I’m not the only one they’re looking at, smartass.”
Now it was Ash’s turn to shake his head. “You two are just too cute.”
His mood had lightened, they could tell. So Michael hazarded to ask, “What time is your appointment?”
“Just after lunch.” Ash looked over at the digital clock display on the stove. “Tell you what, we’ve got time to make a run over to the London Eye beforehand. It’s supposed to rain later today, but it’s clear now. Should be a good view of the city.”
“Deal!” Michael had been looking forward to riding on the Eye ever since Ashton had shared stories of a wine tasting he and Declan had attended there a while back. The Ferris wheel overlooked the whole of greater London. Half an hour in the sky.
Brian nodded, then reached up to run his fingers through Michael’s tangled hair. “Better try and tame this mop first.” He grinned when Michael made an offhanded comment about him needing to look in a mirror before he talked about other folks’ bed head.
“I could just get it cut.”
“The hell you will.” Brian called out after his retreating lover’s back as Michael left to walk back to their bedroom.
“Who made you the hair sheriff,” Michael answered back.
“You did.” Brian laughed as Ashton smiled at their antics. “Back in a few.”
“Says you,” the Englishman replied. “But I’ll give you the benefit of a doubt.”
“Fifteen minutes, or I’m buying lunch,” Brian assured.
“Ohh, and I’ll be sure to work up an expensive appetite while I change clothes, then.” Ashton set off down the hall with all the confidence of a man who knew he’d already won the bet.
- - -
With grudging amusement, Brian paid up on his lost bet before they left the restaurant for Ash’s appointment.
“Fortune Foster,” Brian groused as they exited the cab. “Where are we now?” He looked around. “First you threaten us with Hungarian food at the, what was it?”
“Gay Hussy.” Michael answered.
“That's the Gay Hussar, actually. And I was just teasing, wasn’t I?” Ash smirked. They’d ended up having Italian instead, after leaving the Eye. “And like it says on the glass, love, this is Hugh’s place.” He pointed to the lettering there which spelled out, “Hughlon Miles Studio.”
"How can a tattoo parlor be so non-descript that you can't even tell it's a tattoo parlor?" Brian asked.
"Because his main living comes from his graphic art and painting commissions. The tattoos are a sideline. But he's so good at it, he's built up a client base just on word of mouth. I've known him for ages. We were at school." Ash pulled open the glass door and waved Brian and Michael inside. "Hugh! Stop sniffing paint and come give us a squeeze!"
The gallery was empty, which is probably why the owner yelled out from the back, "For the love of god, you've got a gob on you to rival a fishwife's any day."
An answering call from Ash, "Annie'll kick your arse, if you keep talking about her that way."
"Like she'd need the excuse, ya mongrel.” It was a gruff voice, one to match the man who came up from the back. He looked as strong as a mountain, and tall as a tree. Well, nearly. He dwarfed everyone in the room except Brian, and still he had a few inches on him as well. He was a striking figure all around, with merry green eyes and dark brown hair that was offset with a touch of ginger in his closely styled beard. Hugh walked in quick strides towards them, giving Ash a hug that almost took him off his feet. “I’ve said it, and she’d agree. You’ve been gone from us way too long, ya scamp.”
Gasping a bit for air, Ashton spent what little he had left in a laugh. “I just saw you both only a few months back.”
Another squeeze, and Hugh drew back - his smile bringing a glow to his cheeks and a shine to his eyes. “As if that was having ya home, one dinner and then off with ya and that man of yours on the go again and again.”
Ash nodded, but then asked, “Is Annie here?”
“No, and she’ll be kicking herself for missing ya. Especially tomorrow night, but with her mum just out of hospital - she’ll be in Blackpool for a fair few days or weeks.”
Looking worried, Ash said, “I thought her mum was in remission.”
Hugh nodded, “That she is, but then if she didn’t take a spill in the garden and fracture her leg. I tell ya, it’s been a hell of a year.”
Ash agreed, “True. Please give her our love, okay?” He looked over. “Hugh, this is Brian and Michael. They’re visiting with us for a couple of weeks.”
Michael smiled as Hugh shook his hand, then Brian’s. “We’re the moral support tagalongs.”
Ash tutted, "Not a wit." He looked at Hugh, his face serious as he said, "They've fast become family."
The words held a meaning that was clear from the expression on Hugh's face, as if they weren't something said often but it was clear they held weight. "Then it's glad I am to know you," he said. He patted Ashton on the back, "So we're doing this then?" At his friend's happy nod, Hugh pulled out his keys. "All right, head on back and I'll lock up."
Ash led Michael and Brian through the gallery and into Hugh’s workroom, which proved an odd mix of separate spaces set aside for easels, sketch tables and then the section that would matter most for their afternoon. The tattoo area was outfitted with a lift chair that swiveled and a body-length, padded table - both upholstered in black leather with chrome accents. Between them was a rolling chair and what must be the tattoo equipment. Against one wall, there was a matching sofa, a computer system set on a counter to one side and a sound system standing beside it. The adjacent wall was partially covered with a floor to ceiling mirror, so that the work area could be seen from the sofa and either the chair or table. The section not covered by mirror was banked by custom made black module with cabinets on top, more counter space and drawers down to the floor with all handles again made of chrome.
Ashton reached into the jacket he was wearing and pulled out a computer disc. "Mood music, check." He tossed the coat over the back of the lift chair, and then kicked off his shoes. "Last time, Declan brought a CD with him that just played on repeat, over and over until they were done. I thought Hugh was gonna crawl into a ball if he had to hear one more Billie Holiday song." He laughed, "He was a bit of a punk in his day."
"Give me a song you can't and wouldn't want to dance to," Hugh's voice preceded him into the room.
"It can't all be the Sex Pistols," Ashton smiled.
Hugh protested, "Now, I've a broader mind than that. Give a poor man some credit."
Brian and Michael sat on the sofa as Ash headed for Hugh's computer. "Same password?"
"Yeah, 'anniesfanny' as always." He grinned when Michael laughed. "I'm a man with a one track mind."
Ash put the disc in, set the media player to shuffle and hit play. The room filled with the first of a mix he'd told them earlier was a selection of both his and Declan’s favorites. Ashton wanted the room relaxed, happy and full of memories of how they'd come so far. "Scene’s set."
Hugh clapped his hands together and rubbed, “Time to play.”
TBC...
Would love to know what you think...
Hugs
xof