Negotiations 46
Hi, folks! Long, long time, no see, I know. It's been a really rough summer for me emotionally. I was battling a depression I couldn't quite tame and writing became unfamiliar. After a lot of deliberation, I tribute about 75% of it to let down stress. The experience of finally not having to panic about every news headline or tweet released all of the exhaustion my body had been harboring since November 2016. Anyhoo, I'm feeling a bit better. A few notes on this chapter: this is, as always, a writing experiment for me, and I really intend to let it go where it wants to go (although I test those inclincations over and over every chapter). Sometimes I think I'm on the brink of one reveal or experience, and I'm actually somewhere else where different things are pushing their way into the foreground. So with that in mind, here's the next installment. Your feedback really matters to me. It gives me an anchor to a fandom that is more like a spider web than a hammock, and I need that. I need to feel where people are so I can keep myself in this space. Enjoy, Plum.
Go back to Negotiations 45 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 46
JUSTIN’S POV
Brian’s birthday-eve body, beached on top of you, was sinking like a stone in a pond; he’d never felt so heavy before. In the recent past you would’ve indulged your urge to ask him how he was, to get detailed feedback, but not this time and not right now. This time you could figure most of it out on your own, except if he was asleep or not so you planted exploratory kisses on his neck and shoulder. His head rose above yours as he moaned and confessed, “Whatever you put in my ass gave me the biggest dopamine rush I’ve ever had.”
You smiled, “Good. That’s the largest plug in that set I have. That was your maiden voyage with it.”
“You just went for it, huh?” he asked.
“I did, but I’m taking it back in a minute so I can fuck you.”
A sly grin appeared on Brian’s face, the one that lets you know he’s happy with your plans. You urged him off of you and on his side, facing away. ”Just stay relaxed.”
You slid inside him immediately, warning him, “This is going to take awhile. You’re not the first guy I’ve fucked today.”
“That’s funny,” Brian replied.
“And true,” you offered.
Brian let out one last laugh which was forgotten as you fucked him...slowly...methodically, your bodies in sync with your intentions. Endorphins buzzed inside you, little mosquitos pumped full of ecstasy swarming in your veins, tiny flying ambassadors ushering you into Brian’s castle, the palace guards no longer at their posts. You’d captured him with little resistance; he welcomed the overpowering; he knew it was coming.
He wanted it.
You spoke in a hushed tone, “You’ve had a helluva week.”
“Yep,” he replied.
“I can feel it. You’re spent.”
“I am. Just keep fucking me. This is nice.” Brian stretched out underneath you, yawned and then smiled as the carnal act resumed. When Brian accepts comfort in the form of sex, it makes you feel twice as tall and more powerful than you’re used to. Minutes after you crossed your finish line, he fell asleep before you pulled out.
***********
BRIAN’S POV
You woke up in your softly lit bedroom with Justin sitting up next to you and wearing your dress shirt from earlier that day. “How long have I been out?” you asked him.
Justin put his phone down and smiled at you, “About forty minutes. You were out cold.”
“Ah, you fucked me,” you said as the memory came back.
“I did. You needed it, too.”
“What I need is to piss,” you said as you caught a glance of the butt plug on your nightstand. “Was that the one?”
“Yep.”
“I’m glad you didn’t show that to me first.”
“I knew your body could handle it even when your brain couldn’t,” Justin admitted as you walked to the bathroom. When you came back to bed, you laid beside him with your face pressed against his thigh, your hand stroking the inside of his leg, “It’s been ages since you’ve worn one of my shirts. That’s hot.”
“I was chilly and it smells like you.”
“You’re gonna model it later so don’t bother taking it off.”
Justin stroked your hair as you hugged his thigh, “No problem. I need to talk to you about a few things.”
You exhaled before responding, “Same here.”
“Oh? You go first,” Justin tried.
“No, no, you brought it up. You go,” you insisted.
He began, “Okay, thing one is that Rusty is emailing Dill constantly trying to get him to join Release as a slave-“
“Shit. I knew about this and just forgot. I’ll take care of it,” you promised.
“Why’s he pestering him so much?” he wanted to know.
Your fingertip traced a random path between the blond hairs on his leg, “I think maybe they get a recruitment bonus; committed slaves are hard to come by. I’ll take care of it on Monday.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. What’s your thing?”
You looked up at him, “Well, it’s sort of tangentially related in a way; Dave and I have been talking and they might want to buy Babylon. They need more space.”
You surprised him, “What, you’re serious? You want to sell?”
“It doesn’t turn much of a profit these days; it’s more of a break-even situation but I wanted to talk to you first because I know how sentimental you are.”
Justin pondered aloud, “Sentimental? I guess so.”
“Well, it’s a part of who we are.” There was a burdened silence then, both of you extrapolating that line of reasoning in your heads, all the joy and trauma you’d both endured there, a psychological map examined. A weird floating mass of quiet emerged encapsulating both of you until you popped it with your voice, “And it’s where I told you I loved you for the first time.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I forget that sometimes,” Justin admitted.
“I don’t forget it because I remember the terror shredding my heart as I ran through that disaster trying to find you.”
Justin stared down at you, his blue eyes frozen in place. You let go of his leg and said, “C’mere.” He set his phone down and slid down into the sheets with you. “We never talk about it,” he said, his voice oddly unemotional even as he hugged you, pressing his face against your chest.
“If I hadn’t found you alive and unhurt, that would’ve been the end for me. I wouldn’t have survived that.”
Justin glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for sincerity, an experience you’ve had a million times in your entire relationship. You used to freak out about it, trying to figure out a magical way to love him and deny it all at once. You don’t play that stupid game anymore.And then he asked, “What if you just shut down Babylon and rent it to Release instead? Could we make good money like that?”
You responded, “Yeah, we could. That’s an option. Maybe we rent it to them for a year and let them buy it if we’re both in agreement? They’ve got to get out from under that storefront. It’s holding them back. It was built as a dance studio for little kids. Plus, Babylon’s in the perfect shape for what they need rather than buying some old store front and having to turn it into a dark dungeon.”
“Well, that’s true,” he admitted, “Who needs a club when there are like five real time hook-up apps?”
“Exactly. So, it’s okay if I move forward with this?”
Justin nodded, “Yeah, just keep me in the loop.”
“Of course,” you agreed.
……
……
The next time Justin spoke, he changed the subject with an almost-whisper into your neck, “After I fuck you, do you still feel me inside you?”
You smiled, “Always.”
“When you dozed off, I took a video of my cock in your ass.”
“You little twat.”
“Just my dick fucking your ass, a tight shot, no pun intended. Not a panoramic view. And before you tell me to delete it, I already made it into a gif on my phone and emailed the file to all my email addresses.”
“I’m going to start impounding your phone before we fuck,” you informed him.
He objected, “Please. No one but us would know who it is.”
Now you understood why the lights were on when you woke up, “Well, did it at least look hot?”
“Very,” Justin assured you.
“The last time you lounged around in one of my shirts, I spanked you, remember?”
Justin’s lips skimmed your collar bone, “Oh, yeah. I remember.” He kissed you like he was trying to inventory all the pleasure brewing inside you and then informed you, “That was my favorite part about last night, you punishing me in front of Dill.”
You grinned, “I figured. It embarrassed the fuck out of you, made my dick want to explode.”
“It felt like a tornado of pleasure and humiliation.”
“Oh, I know. I felt you spinning up. It was pretty wicked, and it wound Dill up, too.” Justin was examining your body under the covers, gathering data that was useful to him, “What kind of Viagra did you take? Because you’re still hard.”
“Same kind; I just snorted it.”
“Very funny, Brian.”
“Same kind. Nothing new. No Viagra fights tonight, okay?”
Justin smiled, “Nothing to fight about. I was just making an observation.”
“You don’t want me to waste it, I presume?” you asked him.
Justin’s eyes flitted away and then returned to your face, “I’m not a good liar, so I won’t attempt it.”
It’s fun to flirt with him even after twenty years because he knows exactly how to entice you. You asked him, “So if I want to have my way with you in these last few hours of my forties, you’re okay with that?”
“Wait…so we’re saying it aloud? We’re acknowledging that your birthday is tomorrow?”
“Yep, guess so,” you conceded.
Justin looked relieved and determined all at once; he slid away from you and out of bed, “Okay, hang on; I’ll be right back.”
You yelled as he left your room, “Do not bring a cake or candles in here!”
“No cake or candles!” he yelled back, his voice coming from the direction of his studio. When he came back, he was carrying an old grayPrada shoebox tied with twine. You sat up in bed as he came back to you, “Here. This is for you.”
Your eyebrow raised as you shook the box, the contents shuffling inside. “What is it?”
“Just open it,” Justin urged you.
“Okay.” You intied the twine, lifted the lid and looked inside. Justin finished your thought before you could, “That’s every birthday card I never gave you because I didn’t want to make you mad…since we met.”
“Whoa, okay.” Your fingers rifled through the contents of the box, noticed that every envelope was sealed shut and had your name on the front. Newer cards had the year written in the corner where a stamp would go. “Do you want me to read all of these now?” you asked him because you couldn’t tell by the look on his face.
“I think it’s too much to read them all at once.”
Okay.”
“What do you want to do?” Justin asked you so you told the truth as you set the box aside, “I want to do whatever makes that blank expression leave your face. I feel like I’m standing on or near a land mine.”
Justin smiled through other emotions that were fighting for real estate on his face; he exhaled before explaining, “Okay, so here’s the deal: I’m not going to hide things like this from you anymore. I don’t want to ignore your birthday every year. I want to show you I love you. I’m your husband, you’re not taking that away from me anymore. Got it?”
You nodded, relieved that he just flat out told you, “Yes, understood.”
“I get that you don’t want a party or to draw attention to it or whatever; that’s fine. I completely respect that. I just mean that I am not going to hide how I personally feel anymore.”
“I don’t want you to. And I was a jerk about it, I know.”
“And it’s not just me that it hurts. Gus called me a week ago to run a birthday present idea by me but he’s afraid to give it to you. That’s your son, Brian. That’s not okay.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
Justin immediately ran his hand down your abdomen to your cock, “And you’re still hard after all that?”
“You’re disappointed?” you asked.
“No, you just amaze me sometimes, and you spoil me with this determined dick of yours.”
“It loves you…truly…madly…-“
“And mostly deeply.”
“Very deeply. If we ever split up, I think my cock would fight me so you’d get full custody of him.”
“And my ass would fight to stay with you. What a clusterfuck that would be,” Justin teased, pulling you on top of him. “Get inside me, please.”
“Bossy boy.”
“Twenty years and you still call me that,” Justin chided.
“Have you looked in the mirror, Sunshine? You don’t age.”
“I like it. It’s sweet. And just so you know, if I met you today instead of twenty years ago, I’d still let you take me anywhere and fuck me senseless no questions asked. You’re the most amazing and beautiful man in the whole fucking world.”
You felt yourself blush when Justin said that, and it freaked you out a little because you don’t blush. Ever. Period. And he saw it, too; he placed his hands on your face and reacted, “Wow. What was that?”
“Fuck if I know. Is it gone?” Your whole body felt strangely trembly and fucked up and weirdly warm in that moment, the way you feel when you almost piss in a dream and wake up just in time to stop it. You shook your head to force the sensation to stop.
Justin reassured you, “Yeah, it’s gone. But now I know that it means something to you. You felt it. That means there’s a teeny tiny part of you that finally experiences humility.” He couldn’t stop smiling.
“I guess so,” you admitted.
“I’m serious when I say not to read all those cards at once, okay? It might be overwhelming.”
“Okay, I’ll pace myself,” you reassured him. You did the same thing with that fuck, both of you unlikely to orgasm again so you just took advantage of being inside him with no end game calculations. After a while, you pulled out and flipped him over, running your fingers through his hair as he moaned. You both dozed off eventually, and when you woke up it was after midnight. When you rolled off of Justin, he woke up. “We’re done?” he asked in his half-awake voice.
“Uh, yeah. No more boner.”
“Oh, thank god. I didn’t want to have to take you to the ER on tonight of all nights.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
So this is fifty: being relieved that your erection subsided. Whoopee.
Justin noticed the time, too. After turning his lamp off, he snuggled up next to you and proclaimed albeit quietly, “Happy birthday, mid-century man.”
“You get one of those and you just used it,” you noted.
“You know, I’ve never fucked a guy as old as you.”
You squeezed his butt cheek hard, “Fifty shades of red on your sore little ass?”
“Okay, calm down. Don’t exert yourself. I just want you to really enjoy the thirty-first anniversary of your twenty-ninth birthday.”
You little shithead.
“You’ll be lucky if you make it to forty, Taylor.”
“Who cares? I’ll barely look thirty by then.” He laughed too hard at his own joke.
He’s so lucky he’s so cute.
*************
You spent your first few hours of being fifty reading some of the cards Justin had given you as he slept beside you. You looked at three total, the last one from his time in New York. You’d forgotten about the night you turned thirty-six. Justin had called you just to say hello, neither of you acknowledging the real reason or date on the calendar. It turned into spontaneous and drunken phone sex, most of the inebriation on his part. The card contained an explanation of how maybe phone sex wasn’t a good idea because it just made missing you worse, more a journal entry than a birthday card:
…I can’t touch myself and pretend it’s you and stay grounded at the same time. I close my eyes and feel you all around me and then I open them and you’re not next to me and it’s too much. I laid in bed all day today because getting out of it feels like I’m breaking a promise or something….
And who the fuck puts shit like this is a birthday card? Someone who knows you’ll probably never read it. Me.
I love you-
Justin ”
You slid the card back in its envelope, killed your light, and laid still in the darkness of your room.
***********
7:07 a.m. Saturday, the next morning
The smell of bacon woke you up; you reached for Justin only to find his side of the bed empty. You sat up, blinked hard and then remembered why he’d be up early on a Saturday.
I’m fucking fifty.
You sat down to pee and tried not to judge yourself about it; well, that and the fact that you’d clearly bottomed the night before and forgotten to deal with the fallout.
I’ve lived half of a century.
Actually really lived it, too.
You threw on some sweats and headed downstairs.
Age is just a number. It’s literally the number of fingers on one hand. Just one. And a zero. That’s all it is.
You stood in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling against the door jamb, because Justin had just sneezed seconds earlier and there was powdered sugar everywhere.
“Ah, fuck! You scared me!”
“Busy morning?” you mused.
“You didn’t have to get up. I was going to bring this to you,” he gestured to the tray he was preparing.
“Well, that’s very sweet but you just sneezed all over that, and you know I do not eat in bed.”
“Once you laid in your bed, ate an apple and I drew you doing it so I have proof that that’s a lie.” You laughed as you approached him, leaned in and licked the white sugar on his nose. “Will you really not eat this?” he asked you.
“I will eat some bacon and eggs and even wheat toast that hasn’t been sneezed on. Deal?”
“Oh my god, you eat my ass. I’ll just eat this myself.” He pouted for a second and then began happily making your new breakfast. “Strawberries? Want some?”
“Sure.”
“And coffee?”
“Please.”
“Okay, sit down, I got this,” he assured you.
“I love to watch you in the kitchen. You’re adorable in an apron,” you tried.
“I’m adorable no matter what,” he replied as the bacon sizzled.
“Agreed.”
“You’re gonna eat a bite of this French toast because it’s the first time I made this recipe,” he informed you.
“No problem.”
Justin brought you your coffee and ran his fingers through your hair before kissing your head.
“Hmm, thanks.”
“Butter on the toast or jelly?”
“No. Plain.”
“Okay, here you go.” He sat your plate in front of you and then the loaded plate at his spot. He rested his foot against yours under the table. Something he started one day and it just stuck.
“This is delicious. Thank you,” you offered.
“Anytime. Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.” He offered you a fork slammed full of his French toast experiment. It was sinfully delicious.
“Oh man, that is amazing.”
“I know,” Justin grinned, “Just like me.”
You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed. It was a tasty start to your first acknowledged birthday.
Negotioations 47
Go back to Negotiations 45 or start at the beginning.
NEGOTIATIONS 46
JUSTIN’S POV
Brian’s birthday-eve body, beached on top of you, was sinking like a stone in a pond; he’d never felt so heavy before. In the recent past you would’ve indulged your urge to ask him how he was, to get detailed feedback, but not this time and not right now. This time you could figure most of it out on your own, except if he was asleep or not so you planted exploratory kisses on his neck and shoulder. His head rose above yours as he moaned and confessed, “Whatever you put in my ass gave me the biggest dopamine rush I’ve ever had.”
You smiled, “Good. That’s the largest plug in that set I have. That was your maiden voyage with it.”
“You just went for it, huh?” he asked.
“I did, but I’m taking it back in a minute so I can fuck you.”
A sly grin appeared on Brian’s face, the one that lets you know he’s happy with your plans. You urged him off of you and on his side, facing away. ”Just stay relaxed.”
You slid inside him immediately, warning him, “This is going to take awhile. You’re not the first guy I’ve fucked today.”
“That’s funny,” Brian replied.
“And true,” you offered.
Brian let out one last laugh which was forgotten as you fucked him...slowly...methodically, your bodies in sync with your intentions. Endorphins buzzed inside you, little mosquitos pumped full of ecstasy swarming in your veins, tiny flying ambassadors ushering you into Brian’s castle, the palace guards no longer at their posts. You’d captured him with little resistance; he welcomed the overpowering; he knew it was coming.
He wanted it.
You spoke in a hushed tone, “You’ve had a helluva week.”
“Yep,” he replied.
“I can feel it. You’re spent.”
“I am. Just keep fucking me. This is nice.” Brian stretched out underneath you, yawned and then smiled as the carnal act resumed. When Brian accepts comfort in the form of sex, it makes you feel twice as tall and more powerful than you’re used to. Minutes after you crossed your finish line, he fell asleep before you pulled out.
***********
BRIAN’S POV
You woke up in your softly lit bedroom with Justin sitting up next to you and wearing your dress shirt from earlier that day. “How long have I been out?” you asked him.
Justin put his phone down and smiled at you, “About forty minutes. You were out cold.”
“Ah, you fucked me,” you said as the memory came back.
“I did. You needed it, too.”
“What I need is to piss,” you said as you caught a glance of the butt plug on your nightstand. “Was that the one?”
“Yep.”
“I’m glad you didn’t show that to me first.”
“I knew your body could handle it even when your brain couldn’t,” Justin admitted as you walked to the bathroom. When you came back to bed, you laid beside him with your face pressed against his thigh, your hand stroking the inside of his leg, “It’s been ages since you’ve worn one of my shirts. That’s hot.”
“I was chilly and it smells like you.”
“You’re gonna model it later so don’t bother taking it off.”
Justin stroked your hair as you hugged his thigh, “No problem. I need to talk to you about a few things.”
You exhaled before responding, “Same here.”
“Oh? You go first,” Justin tried.
“No, no, you brought it up. You go,” you insisted.
He began, “Okay, thing one is that Rusty is emailing Dill constantly trying to get him to join Release as a slave-“
“Shit. I knew about this and just forgot. I’ll take care of it,” you promised.
“Why’s he pestering him so much?” he wanted to know.
Your fingertip traced a random path between the blond hairs on his leg, “I think maybe they get a recruitment bonus; committed slaves are hard to come by. I’ll take care of it on Monday.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. What’s your thing?”
You looked up at him, “Well, it’s sort of tangentially related in a way; Dave and I have been talking and they might want to buy Babylon. They need more space.”
You surprised him, “What, you’re serious? You want to sell?”
“It doesn’t turn much of a profit these days; it’s more of a break-even situation but I wanted to talk to you first because I know how sentimental you are.”
Justin pondered aloud, “Sentimental? I guess so.”
“Well, it’s a part of who we are.” There was a burdened silence then, both of you extrapolating that line of reasoning in your heads, all the joy and trauma you’d both endured there, a psychological map examined. A weird floating mass of quiet emerged encapsulating both of you until you popped it with your voice, “And it’s where I told you I loved you for the first time.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I forget that sometimes,” Justin admitted.
“I don’t forget it because I remember the terror shredding my heart as I ran through that disaster trying to find you.”
Justin stared down at you, his blue eyes frozen in place. You let go of his leg and said, “C’mere.” He set his phone down and slid down into the sheets with you. “We never talk about it,” he said, his voice oddly unemotional even as he hugged you, pressing his face against your chest.
“If I hadn’t found you alive and unhurt, that would’ve been the end for me. I wouldn’t have survived that.”
Justin glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for sincerity, an experience you’ve had a million times in your entire relationship. You used to freak out about it, trying to figure out a magical way to love him and deny it all at once. You don’t play that stupid game anymore.And then he asked, “What if you just shut down Babylon and rent it to Release instead? Could we make good money like that?”
You responded, “Yeah, we could. That’s an option. Maybe we rent it to them for a year and let them buy it if we’re both in agreement? They’ve got to get out from under that storefront. It’s holding them back. It was built as a dance studio for little kids. Plus, Babylon’s in the perfect shape for what they need rather than buying some old store front and having to turn it into a dark dungeon.”
“Well, that’s true,” he admitted, “Who needs a club when there are like five real time hook-up apps?”
“Exactly. So, it’s okay if I move forward with this?”
Justin nodded, “Yeah, just keep me in the loop.”
“Of course,” you agreed.
……
……
The next time Justin spoke, he changed the subject with an almost-whisper into your neck, “After I fuck you, do you still feel me inside you?”
You smiled, “Always.”
“When you dozed off, I took a video of my cock in your ass.”
“You little twat.”
“Just my dick fucking your ass, a tight shot, no pun intended. Not a panoramic view. And before you tell me to delete it, I already made it into a gif on my phone and emailed the file to all my email addresses.”
“I’m going to start impounding your phone before we fuck,” you informed him.
He objected, “Please. No one but us would know who it is.”
Now you understood why the lights were on when you woke up, “Well, did it at least look hot?”
“Very,” Justin assured you.
“The last time you lounged around in one of my shirts, I spanked you, remember?”
Justin’s lips skimmed your collar bone, “Oh, yeah. I remember.” He kissed you like he was trying to inventory all the pleasure brewing inside you and then informed you, “That was my favorite part about last night, you punishing me in front of Dill.”
You grinned, “I figured. It embarrassed the fuck out of you, made my dick want to explode.”
“It felt like a tornado of pleasure and humiliation.”
“Oh, I know. I felt you spinning up. It was pretty wicked, and it wound Dill up, too.” Justin was examining your body under the covers, gathering data that was useful to him, “What kind of Viagra did you take? Because you’re still hard.”
“Same kind; I just snorted it.”
“Very funny, Brian.”
“Same kind. Nothing new. No Viagra fights tonight, okay?”
Justin smiled, “Nothing to fight about. I was just making an observation.”
“You don’t want me to waste it, I presume?” you asked him.
Justin’s eyes flitted away and then returned to your face, “I’m not a good liar, so I won’t attempt it.”
It’s fun to flirt with him even after twenty years because he knows exactly how to entice you. You asked him, “So if I want to have my way with you in these last few hours of my forties, you’re okay with that?”
“Wait…so we’re saying it aloud? We’re acknowledging that your birthday is tomorrow?”
“Yep, guess so,” you conceded.
Justin looked relieved and determined all at once; he slid away from you and out of bed, “Okay, hang on; I’ll be right back.”
You yelled as he left your room, “Do not bring a cake or candles in here!”
“No cake or candles!” he yelled back, his voice coming from the direction of his studio. When he came back, he was carrying an old grayPrada shoebox tied with twine. You sat up in bed as he came back to you, “Here. This is for you.”
Your eyebrow raised as you shook the box, the contents shuffling inside. “What is it?”
“Just open it,” Justin urged you.
“Okay.” You intied the twine, lifted the lid and looked inside. Justin finished your thought before you could, “That’s every birthday card I never gave you because I didn’t want to make you mad…since we met.”
“Whoa, okay.” Your fingers rifled through the contents of the box, noticed that every envelope was sealed shut and had your name on the front. Newer cards had the year written in the corner where a stamp would go. “Do you want me to read all of these now?” you asked him because you couldn’t tell by the look on his face.
“I think it’s too much to read them all at once.”
Okay.”
“What do you want to do?” Justin asked you so you told the truth as you set the box aside, “I want to do whatever makes that blank expression leave your face. I feel like I’m standing on or near a land mine.”
Justin smiled through other emotions that were fighting for real estate on his face; he exhaled before explaining, “Okay, so here’s the deal: I’m not going to hide things like this from you anymore. I don’t want to ignore your birthday every year. I want to show you I love you. I’m your husband, you’re not taking that away from me anymore. Got it?”
You nodded, relieved that he just flat out told you, “Yes, understood.”
“I get that you don’t want a party or to draw attention to it or whatever; that’s fine. I completely respect that. I just mean that I am not going to hide how I personally feel anymore.”
“I don’t want you to. And I was a jerk about it, I know.”
“And it’s not just me that it hurts. Gus called me a week ago to run a birthday present idea by me but he’s afraid to give it to you. That’s your son, Brian. That’s not okay.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
Justin immediately ran his hand down your abdomen to your cock, “And you’re still hard after all that?”
“You’re disappointed?” you asked.
“No, you just amaze me sometimes, and you spoil me with this determined dick of yours.”
“It loves you…truly…madly…-“
“And mostly deeply.”
“Very deeply. If we ever split up, I think my cock would fight me so you’d get full custody of him.”
“And my ass would fight to stay with you. What a clusterfuck that would be,” Justin teased, pulling you on top of him. “Get inside me, please.”
“Bossy boy.”
“Twenty years and you still call me that,” Justin chided.
“Have you looked in the mirror, Sunshine? You don’t age.”
“I like it. It’s sweet. And just so you know, if I met you today instead of twenty years ago, I’d still let you take me anywhere and fuck me senseless no questions asked. You’re the most amazing and beautiful man in the whole fucking world.”
You felt yourself blush when Justin said that, and it freaked you out a little because you don’t blush. Ever. Period. And he saw it, too; he placed his hands on your face and reacted, “Wow. What was that?”
“Fuck if I know. Is it gone?” Your whole body felt strangely trembly and fucked up and weirdly warm in that moment, the way you feel when you almost piss in a dream and wake up just in time to stop it. You shook your head to force the sensation to stop.
Justin reassured you, “Yeah, it’s gone. But now I know that it means something to you. You felt it. That means there’s a teeny tiny part of you that finally experiences humility.” He couldn’t stop smiling.
“I guess so,” you admitted.
“I’m serious when I say not to read all those cards at once, okay? It might be overwhelming.”
“Okay, I’ll pace myself,” you reassured him. You did the same thing with that fuck, both of you unlikely to orgasm again so you just took advantage of being inside him with no end game calculations. After a while, you pulled out and flipped him over, running your fingers through his hair as he moaned. You both dozed off eventually, and when you woke up it was after midnight. When you rolled off of Justin, he woke up. “We’re done?” he asked in his half-awake voice.
“Uh, yeah. No more boner.”
“Oh, thank god. I didn’t want to have to take you to the ER on tonight of all nights.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
So this is fifty: being relieved that your erection subsided. Whoopee.
Justin noticed the time, too. After turning his lamp off, he snuggled up next to you and proclaimed albeit quietly, “Happy birthday, mid-century man.”
“You get one of those and you just used it,” you noted.
“You know, I’ve never fucked a guy as old as you.”
You squeezed his butt cheek hard, “Fifty shades of red on your sore little ass?”
“Okay, calm down. Don’t exert yourself. I just want you to really enjoy the thirty-first anniversary of your twenty-ninth birthday.”
You little shithead.
“You’ll be lucky if you make it to forty, Taylor.”
“Who cares? I’ll barely look thirty by then.” He laughed too hard at his own joke.
He’s so lucky he’s so cute.
*************
You spent your first few hours of being fifty reading some of the cards Justin had given you as he slept beside you. You looked at three total, the last one from his time in New York. You’d forgotten about the night you turned thirty-six. Justin had called you just to say hello, neither of you acknowledging the real reason or date on the calendar. It turned into spontaneous and drunken phone sex, most of the inebriation on his part. The card contained an explanation of how maybe phone sex wasn’t a good idea because it just made missing you worse, more a journal entry than a birthday card:
…I can’t touch myself and pretend it’s you and stay grounded at the same time. I close my eyes and feel you all around me and then I open them and you’re not next to me and it’s too much. I laid in bed all day today because getting out of it feels like I’m breaking a promise or something….
And who the fuck puts shit like this is a birthday card? Someone who knows you’ll probably never read it. Me.
I love you-
Justin ”
You slid the card back in its envelope, killed your light, and laid still in the darkness of your room.
***********
7:07 a.m. Saturday, the next morning
The smell of bacon woke you up; you reached for Justin only to find his side of the bed empty. You sat up, blinked hard and then remembered why he’d be up early on a Saturday.
I’m fucking fifty.
You sat down to pee and tried not to judge yourself about it; well, that and the fact that you’d clearly bottomed the night before and forgotten to deal with the fallout.
I’ve lived half of a century.
Actually really lived it, too.
You threw on some sweats and headed downstairs.
Age is just a number. It’s literally the number of fingers on one hand. Just one. And a zero. That’s all it is.
You stood in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling against the door jamb, because Justin had just sneezed seconds earlier and there was powdered sugar everywhere.
“Ah, fuck! You scared me!”
“Busy morning?” you mused.
“You didn’t have to get up. I was going to bring this to you,” he gestured to the tray he was preparing.
“Well, that’s very sweet but you just sneezed all over that, and you know I do not eat in bed.”
“Once you laid in your bed, ate an apple and I drew you doing it so I have proof that that’s a lie.” You laughed as you approached him, leaned in and licked the white sugar on his nose. “Will you really not eat this?” he asked you.
“I will eat some bacon and eggs and even wheat toast that hasn’t been sneezed on. Deal?”
“Oh my god, you eat my ass. I’ll just eat this myself.” He pouted for a second and then began happily making your new breakfast. “Strawberries? Want some?”
“Sure.”
“And coffee?”
“Please.”
“Okay, sit down, I got this,” he assured you.
“I love to watch you in the kitchen. You’re adorable in an apron,” you tried.
“I’m adorable no matter what,” he replied as the bacon sizzled.
“Agreed.”
“You’re gonna eat a bite of this French toast because it’s the first time I made this recipe,” he informed you.
“No problem.”
Justin brought you your coffee and ran his fingers through your hair before kissing your head.
“Hmm, thanks.”
“Butter on the toast or jelly?”
“No. Plain.”
“Okay, here you go.” He sat your plate in front of you and then the loaded plate at his spot. He rested his foot against yours under the table. Something he started one day and it just stuck.
“This is delicious. Thank you,” you offered.
“Anytime. Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome.” He offered you a fork slammed full of his French toast experiment. It was sinfully delicious.
“Oh man, that is amazing.”
“I know,” Justin grinned, “Just like me.”
You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed. It was a tasty start to your first acknowledged birthday.
Negotioations 47