Fic: Queer as Folk: So Come and Dance With Me 14/? Part 1/2
March, 2005
Brian’s eyes narrowed as he peered through the shop windows. Inside, Michael stood behind the counter, ringing up a customer. Brian couldn’t see his face; the posters in the windows blocked almost everything out. But he could see the wall he’d shoved Michael against years ago, the last time he’d really tried to fuck him.
Michael stopped him that time.
Brian had been relieved. He didn’t really know what he had been doing. Maybe he was trying to prove something. Maybe he knew Michael was growing up, and moving on, and realizing what an asshole he was. Maybe he was scared.
That was years ago, now. They’d both changed since then. Everyone had. Everything had. But he’d been right back then. Michael began to drift away, and his power over his best friend dwindled. The cute boy that had followed him around his whole life turned into a handsome, self-assured man who didn’t need him any more.
“’Scuse me,” a teenage boy said as he pushed the store door open and almost bumped into Brian on his way out.
Brian’s leather-gloved hand caught the open door and he slipped inside.
The air outside had been freezing, the temperature dropping rapidly. There was no wind, no snow, just freezing cold, silent, still air.
But the inside of the store was warm. Brian’s cheeks burned with tiny pinpricks as they thawed and he shut the door quietly behind himself, turning the lock with a soft click.
Michael stood with his back turned to the door, stacking receipts. There were no more customers. Brian glanced at the clock on the wall.
6:00
“Closing time,” Brian said.
With a gasp Michael spun around, then, panting, he put a hand over his chest. “Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
Tilting his head, Brian stared at his friend, the way his skin flushed under Brian’s gaze, the way his eyes darkened. “I locked up.”
“O-oh,” Michael said, nodding slowly. “Sure. Thanks.” He didn’t move.
Brian felt himself smirk. He slipped his gloves off, one finger at a time. “So?” he drawled. “How was your day?”
Michael bit his lower lip, which forced Brian to focus on it, and how soft and red it was, and how much he wanted to take it between his own lips, between his own teeth.
“Uh, fine,” Michael said. He wrung his hands once, then huffed out a sigh. “Look, we really should talk.”
Brian arched an eyebrow and nodded, tugging off his jacket. He strode to the counter and lay his jacket across it, placing his gloves on top. “I agree.”
“Y-you do?” Michael asked, taking a step back, the counter separating them.
“Sure,” Brian said. “But not yet.”
Nodding once, slowly, Michael squinted at him. “Okay, why not?”
Brian ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then grinned, slow and seductively. “We haven’t done anything worth talking about yet.”
Michael flushed and his shoulders drew back, tense. “I… Brian, I don’t-“
“Come here,” Brian said, curling a finger at Michael. “I won’t bite.”
Without thinking Michael lifted his hand to his neck, his fingertips brushing over the dark bruise Brian had left. “Liar,” he muttered. “You didn’t tell me you left a-“
“A hickey?” Brian asked, grinning.
“People were asking about it!” Michael folded his arms across his chest and scowled. “People know I’m married, you know. They know Ben’s gone.”
Brian’s jaw clenched, and his stomach tightened. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“He has everything to do with this! Jesus, Brian, I’m married!”
“You didn’t seem to give a shit about that earlier today, or last night,” Brian replied, feeling his face warm. “Besides, it only counts in Canada.”
Now Michael circled the counter. He took quick, angry steps towards Brian, then grabbed him by the front of his $500 Armani shirt and shoved him back against the counter.
Brian sucked in a breath and stood, unmoving, ignoring the bolt of pain that shot up his back.
“If that’s all you have to say, you can forget about ever touching me again,” Michael hissed.
Brian stared down at his friend, at the fear in his eyes. Michael’s hands trembled where they gripped Brian’s shirt, and his chest rose and fell in quick, sharp breaths.
“It has nothing to do with us,” Brian said in his most soothing tone, letting his voice drop to a rough hush, lifting his right hand and brushing his fingertips down the side of Michael’s face. “He has nothing to do with us. No one does.” His fingertips brushed over Michael’s lips, then he dropped his hand. “We’ve always been… different, haven’t we?”
Michael’s grip on his shirt loosened and he dropped his hands, ducking his head.
“We’ve always had our own rules, fuck everyone else,” Brian continued.
Michael glanced up at Brian from under his bangs.
“Besides,” Brian purred, ducking his head and pressing his lips to Michael’s warm cheek, kissing his way to his ear. “I saw you first.”
The shiver that went through Michael’s body answered him yes, and that was all he needed to hear. Brian pressed his lips to Michael’s. For a moment his friend resisted, then Michael’s lips softened and parted, pressing back against Brian’s.
Brian’s hands found Michael’s hips and rested on them, his thumbs stroking up underneath the edge of Michael’s shirt, circling over the soft skin he exposed.
“You’re cold,” Michael gasped, parting the kiss just enough to speak. Another shiver went through his body, and Brian wasn’t sure if it was from his frigid fingertips, or lust.
“You’ll warm me up,” Brian murmured, capturing Michael’s lips in another kiss. “You always do,” he whispered when the kiss parted. The words escaped before he could catch them and pull them back, and he arched an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to focus on Micahel’s face.
Michael’s eyes widened and searched his, and then he grinned, slowly. His gaze slid down Brian’s body, then back up. Then his hands were on Brian’s shoulders, and he was leaning up to kiss him, and their lips were pressed together, but this time Michael’s mouth was soft and open to him.
Brian felt himself moan and he slid his tongue past Michael’s lips, tasting him.
Christ, how had he survived all afternoon without this?
Brian’s hands slid under Michael’s shirt and he felt the smooth softness of his skin. He pushed Michael backwards and they stumbled just a bit over each other’s feet, but their lips didn’t part. Brian’s hands gripped Michael’s shirt and yanked up, breaking the kiss just long enough to rip it off Michael’s body, and to see the hunger in his friend’s eyes. Then they were kissing again.
Michael gasped a little when the backs of his legs hit the futon behind him, and Brian broke their kiss to duck his head and run his tongue down the length of Michael’s neck.
“Mm,” the soft noise came from Michael’s throat, and Brian bit down on the nape of his neck.
“Ah-“ Michael gasped, his fingers digging into Brian’s arms. “Y-you’ll leave another mark,” he whispered, his words almost inaudible.
Brian growled, biting down harder, sucking on the soft nape of Michael’s neck, feeling the skin warm beneath his teeth. His fingers slid down Michael’s firm stomach, coming to rest on the top of his jeans. The button was easy to slip open, and the zipper slid down with a click, click, click, that sent heat to Brian’s cock in anticipation.
Now Michael’s jeans fell to the floor, followed by his underwear, which Brian peeled off with his fingertips, brushing over Michael’s bare ass and hearing someone moan, unsure of which one of them it was. Brian lifted his head and kissed Michael again, and gave him one firm shove.
Michael let out an adorable squeak when his ass hit the futon, his eyes widening, startled, as if he’d just realized he was naked, as if he’d just realized what was about to happen.
Brian was on top of him before he could think about it, or change his mind. His hands gripped Michael’s wrists and he straddled his friend, pinning him to the futon and kissing the breath out of him.
“Brian,” Michael gasped when he parted the kiss. His face flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red, he looked the picture of lust.
“Mmm?” Brian murmured, running his tongue down the center of Michael’s chest, only diverting to the right to focus his attention on a nipple, circling his tongue around it until it hardened.
Michael moaned, struggling just a little under Brian’s grip, arching his back. So Brian released his wrists, running his hands down Michael’s arms, then down his sides. He dragged his tongue lower, lower to his bellybutton.
Michael’s hands gripped Brian’s shirt and yanked sharply. “Wait,” he gasped.
Brian growled, lifting his tongue and licking his lips. He wouldn’t stop now. Not now. Not with Michael’s cock hard and dark and right there, begging to be licked.
“You’re still dressed,” Micheal whispered, the flush on his face darkening.
Brian slipped off his tie and tossed it aside before he grabbed the front of his own shirt and undid the buttons quickly, one after the other, with the skill and ease of someone who’d undressed quickly many times before. But half-way through Michael lifted his hands and swatted Brian’s out of the way, his fingers brushing over the buttons, slipping them open, sliding under Brian’s shirt as they went, running lightly over his skin.
Too slow, Brian thought, grabbing Michael’s wrists as he gripped the next button. He yanked Michael’s hands, forcing him to rip the shirt open, two buttons popping off and rolling across the floor.
Their bare chests pressed together when Brian kissed Michael again, reaching between them to grasp his friend’s dick. He stroked the hard length once, feeling the tremor that went through Michael’s body, the way his friend arched against him, needing more.
When he parted that kiss, he licked his lips and tasted Michael’s saliva on them. He slid down Michael’s body before he could be tempted by his friend’s red lips again, and he pressed his mouth instead against Michael’s cock.
“Aah-!” Michael called out, thrusting forward.
Brian growled and gripped his hips, pinning him back to the futon. He ran his tongue up the length of his friend’s erection, circling around the tip, tasting his pre-come. He tasted warm, sweet, and it made Brian’s mouth salivate.
Perfectly shaped, Brian thought again, remembering how he’d stared at his best friend’s dick the first time he’d seen it, the first time he’d touched it. He’d wanted to taste it then, to take it in his mouth, to suck and lick and swallow around him until Michael came, helpless to hold back.
Brian reached down with one hand and popped open his own jeans, releasing the pressure on his cock, and swallowed Michael’s. The head of his dick slipped past Brian’s lips, and he sucked.
“Ohgod-“ Michael moaned, wriggling beneath him.
More, Brian’s dick demanded. Now.
He lifted his head and licked his lips, leering at Michael’s prone body. The way his dick looked, wet with Brian’s saliva, the way his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, the way his pupils dilated when his eyes met Brian’s, the way his dark hair stood out against his delicate, pale skin.
The way his ass looked.
He leaned over Michael, licking his jaw line, feeling the slight roughness of hair beginning to grow in, unshaven since early that morning. The feeling sent a wave of heat through Brian’s body and he reached down, yanking his pants off his hips, and kicking them off quickly. Armani be damned, he didn’t have time to fold his slacks, not with Michael naked beneath him.
But he’d retrieved the condom and the tiny tube of lubricant he’d left in his pocket first. He popped the lid open, and nipped at the soft skin under Michael’s left ear. Then he hummed in pleasure as he felt Michael’s hands slide down his sides, over his bare hips, then up a little, brushing over his ass lightly, tentatively.
“Touch me,” Brian purred into Michael’s ear, arching his ass into Michael’s hands.
A soft squeak escaped Michael’s throat and his hands rested on Brian’s ass, warming his still cool skin. He slid his hands down to Brian’s hips, down his thighs, his fingers beginning to tremble, then his hands, then his arms, then his whole body.
Brian’s knee nudged Michael’s thighs apart, and his fingertips, dabbed with lubricant, found the tight, hot hole there, and pressed against it.
“Nn-“ Michael squeaked, his back arching, his muscles tensing.
Brian nuzzled his face into Michael’s neck, smelling the familiar scent he’d known since he was fourteen, but it smelled different now, stronger, darker, musky and rich. “Shh,” he shushed him, kissing his jaw line back to his lips, then kissing the breath from them.
Michael’s body relaxed, and Brian’s index finger pushed in.
The shudder that went through Michael’s body resonated in Brian’s dick, in his balls, which tightened and felt so close to coming, so close already.
But fuck, after half a lifetime of foreplay, half a lifetime of look-but-don’t-touch, half a lifetime of hungry kisses dismissed and ignored and repressed, Brian thought, it was no wonder his body ached for more, couldn’t wait, couldn’t hold back.
Brian’s finger pulled out, his hands beginning to tremble.
Christ, Brian thought. Who’s pathetic now?
But the condom wrapper ripped between his teeth as he stared into Michael’s eyes, watching how they darkened, watching how he licked his lips in response, watching how his swollen lips trembled in anticipation.
Brian slid the condom on, shivering at his own touch, shutting his eyes and taking three deep, long breaths to regain control.
Then he felt Michael’s fingers, pressed against the side of his face, sliding down over his lips, then around to his neck. Michael pulled him down and kissed him, his lips moving against Brian’s slowly, taking their time to memorize every movement, every wave of pleasure.
“Mm,” Brian heard himself moan, rocking his hips against Michael, his dick grinding against Michael’s ass.
“Aah-“ Michael gasped again, his head falling back, his hand gripping the back of Brian’s neck.
Panting, Brian pressed his forehead against Michael’s, his eyes still shut. Michael’s fingers squeezed the back of his neck, and his hands dug into Michael’s hips.
When the tip of his latex-sheathed cock pressed against Michael’s entrance, both of them shuddered. For a moment they stopped, breath caught in their chests, foreheads pressed together so hard it almost hurt.
Then Michael shivered, and pushed down.
Brian’s eyes opened and he pushed in. Michael’s body opened to him, tight and hot, and he thrust in further, steadily, not stopping when Michael’s ass clamped down around him, not stopping when Michael moaned and raked his nails down the back of Brian’s neck and back, not stopping until he was sheathed in Michael, completely.
Michael’s chest rose and fell in fast breaths, his chocolate brown eyes darkened almost black, staring up at him, glassy, and his hands gripped Brian, clinging to his back. “Brian,” he whispered.
And suddenly it was too much, fucking Michael, being inside of Michael, too intimate, too real. Brian couldn’t hold back. His hips jerked back, pulling his dick almost completely out, and he thrust in again.
Michael’s head fell back and his chest rose in a sharp gasp. Brian ducked his head, capturing Michael’s left nipple between his teeth. He couldn’t stop licking him, tasting him. He pulled out again, thrust in again, hard.
“Brian!” Michael shouted.
Brian’s hands shoved themselves under Michael’s hips, and he lifted, pulling Michael’s ass up from the futon, and he thrust in again, and he buried himself deeper, filling Michael’s body even more.
Michael’s legs lifted, his right first, then his left, hooking themselves around Brian’s hips, jerking him forward into himself again, harder.
Now it was just thrust, thrust, harder, faster, Brian’s fingers digging into Michael’s ass as he held it up, thrusting deeper, and Michael’s hands gripped Brian’s back, his nails digging in.
Brian’s lips kissed Michael’s chest, his neck, his forehead, tasting sweat, tasting hormones, tasting Michael. Then Michael grabbed the back of his head and yanked him into another kiss, and Brian thrust in faster.
The futon squeaked, rocking beneath them, and Brian kissed Michael, their tongues sliding together, and Brian reached between them, and wrapped his hand around Michael’s dick.
“Brian!” Michael moaned, his head falling back again. “I… I-“
Brian growled and bit Michael’s lower lip, shuddering. His balls tightened and he thrust again, again, again, and Michael just moaned, his words lost in the smell of sex in the air. Brian’s hand gripped Michael’s cock and pulled, stroking him with each thrust, once, twice, three times.
Michael’s ass tightened around him, hard, and his friend’s back arched, and the low, hungry moan that escaped his lips made Brian’s balls tighten. Then the hot, sticky stuff filled Brian’s hand, and Michael shuddered, clinging to him as he came, his entire body going stiff.
More, Brian’s cock demanded. Not yet! His brain screamed.
But it was too late, he was too close, and it was too tight, and oh Christ, it was Michael beneath him, Michael, the only man off-limits, Michael, the only man he wasn’t supposed to touch, to lick, to fuck. His hips jerked hard, and he pressed his forehead against Michael’s, and he felt it, the wave of pleasure that washed over him, the way his muscles trembled, from his toes all the way up his body, and he came.
Heart pounding in his chest, Brian couldn’t close his eyes. As the wave of pleasure crashed over him his toes curled and he moaned, and Michael’s gaze held his, and the intensity of it was too much, so much more than he expected. He gasped and Michael’s name escaped his lips, and he felt the heat of his come filling the condom, tight inside Michael’s body.
Both men lay gasping, panting, hearts racing against each other’s chests. Their lips brushed, and Brian kissed Michael slowly, gently, feeling his lips tingle. Foreheads pressed together, they shut their eyes and breathed against each other’s lips, their breath mixing, humid and thick.
Read part 2 here!