“I had a dream last night that we were in our new house,” I say as I set my magazine down and roll over closer to him.
“Cooking, gardening, sitting in front of the fire?” he responds drolly.
I lightly chuckle before replying, “Not exactly.”
I get under the duvet and explain, “You were riding me in the stables, diving into me in the pool, slamming me on the tennis court.”
I kiss him softly on the back of the neck before he quips “Well, that gives a new meaning to U.S. Open.”
“I better start practicing my serve,” I say as I dip my head under the duvet and start languorously placing kisses down his back.
“Wouldn’t you rather just cuddle?” he asks dryly with what sounds like a hint of sarcasm.
I crawl back up out from under the duvet and shoot up off the bed.
“What?” I sputter, thinking that my mind HAS to be playing tricks on me because I could’ve SWORN that I just heard him say the word cuddle.
He turns his head and looks up at me as he repeats, “I said, wouldn’t you rather just lie here and-“
“No, oh, no, no, I heard you what you said. You said cuddle!” I exclaim, still trying to wrap my head around the unbelievable.
He shrugs nonchalantly, “So?”
“So, I have never ever once heard you even use that word, much less actually want to do it,” I say getting more and more irritated with each passing second. What the fuck is happening? This has to be a sign of the end of the world as we know it. Brian Kinney just said CUDDLE. My mind has officially been blown.
“Okay, so can we just turn the lights out?” he asks as he sits up, clearly wanting to avoid discussing what he knows will be inevitable.
“No, no, Brian Kinney fucks, sucks, rims, rams but he NEVER cuddles!”
“Okay, so I used a word that offends your sensibilities, forgive me, I apologize, and I’ll never do it again,” he replies with a slight smirk, playing it off as if it’s no big deal.
I get up from the bed and exasperatedly explain, “No, it’s more than just that. Every day we get closer to being married, the person I know gets further away.”
“I’m right here,” he says with his eyebrows slightly raised.
“But it’s not you. It looks like you, feels like you. But you… you would never go to your own stag party and not fuck every hot guy in sight. You would NEVER be more interested in gardening than getting laid!”
“I’m just trying to make you happy,” he replies.
“I want you to do what makes YOU happy, not me.”
He blinks a few times and looks down with that deep look in his eyes that means he’s really thinking about something before raising his eyebrow in sudden revelation and responds, “What about you?”
I sigh as I swing around and sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him. Fuck, I know where this is going.
“Yes, you,” he continues, “Not going to New York?”
Ahhh, and THERE it is. Ding, ding, ding we have a winner! Me not going to New York and becoming a big, fat, fucking success. The real reason behind what pushed Brian to mention the word cuddle seriously for what is most likely the first time in his entire life. Of course, how did I NOT see it before now? The signs were right in front of me the entire time… He’s doing what he does best; pushing me away when he thinks it’s what’s best for me. Well, not this time; no more.
I quickly move closer to him and flip my body on top of his while shoving his hands up above his head and holding them tightly in a firm grasp. He raises his eyebrow at me questioningly as I say, “It’s my decision, Brian, not yours, not Lindsay’s, MINE. You don’t get to choose what you think is best for my life anymore, Brian. I’m not that seventeen-year-old boy you can push around any longer. I make my own decisions and do what I want to do with my life, including what makes me happy.”
He tries to open his mouth to argue with me again, so instead I fuse my lips against his before sliding down his body and doing what never fails to make him shut up – giving him a blowjob that makes all other thoughts in his mind instantly float away. Right when I plunge my mouth over the entire length of his rock hard cock I feel his hands pulling roughly at my hair and that’s when I know he’s completely lost. This isn’t over, though. It’s time he gets a taste of his own medicine. He’s not getting rid of me this time.
Last week he told me that he is the only person that gets to make decisions regarding his life, right before he gave me one of his earth shattering blow jobs that left me literally speechless and unable to argue. It’s funny really, because usually I’M the one to use sex as a distraction tactic during conversations. But then I rethought the matter and I’m glad I didn’t get a chance to argue with him about it that night because the next morning I thought up another one of my brilliant-beyond-brilliant plans that I knew would get him to pick up and go to the Big Apple all on his own. He told me that the closer our wedding date approaches, the further away the Brian Kinney that he knows becomes.
He doesn’t want the guy I’ve been portraying to be in order to get him to go to New York and conquer the art world. He wants Brian Kinney, Stud of Liberty Avenue, the fuck machine with no excuses and no regrets. THAT is the guy he wants. So, I thought, well, all I have to do is wait a little bit longer and continue to NOT be the guy he fell for and wait until he decides that this ‘new me’ is here to stay and comes to the conclusion that it would be a wiser decision to go to New York and start making a name for himself in the art world, rather than staying with the shell of a guy who is no longer the man he wants.
I’m getting pretty damn worried, though, and I do NOT worry. I never have the need to. My plans NEVER fail, I just don’t fucking get it… All I know is that tomorrow is our rehearsal dinner and our wedding is right around the corner… and… he’s still here.
This entire week he’s been freaking the hell out of me… on Tuesday I came home from work and had the longest day trying to clean up the shit job the art department did on the new Remson ad. So by the time I came home I was more than ready to fuck the shit out of him all night long. But every time I tried to grab him he swatted me away and said that dinner would be ready soon… like some fucking Betty Crocker housewife. He rejected me. He swatted me away and denied having SEX with me to COOK. I couldn’t fucking believe it.
But that’s not all, ohh, no. THEN when we finally finished eating my little happy homemaker’s fabulous little home-cooked meal and we were in bed, I started to pounce on him for sex, only to have him shove me lightly against my chest and yawn loudly before telling me with a smile, “I’m so tired, I was looking at all of moms old recipes that she brought by for me today and was cooking up a storm practically all day long. Some other time.” I kid you not. And then just like that he rolled in closer to me and pressed his hot little ass directly against my achingly hard dick. Of course I couldn’t say anything, though, because this week I can’t be my usual self. He’s sure as hell making it as difficult as can be, though, that’s for damn sure.
Then yesterday I came home to him sitting on the floor with magazines and catalogs surrounding him and covering practically the entire loft’s floor. I walked closer to see what on earth had preoccupied him so much that he didn’t even notice my entrance and discovered dozens of pages ripped out or tagged with a yellow sticky note. He finally observed me hovering above him and flashed a gigantic smile at me as he pulled me down to excitedly show me matching furniture and curtains and all of the cute little things that would make up the ideal hetero home. He wanted to put these things in Britin and thought they would look so “perfect” there, and then he excitedly said, “Don’t you think so, honey?” Yeah, I’m serious he called me… honey. And it was fucking terrifying.
After eating another meal based on one of his new recipes that was actually pretty good, I dragged him up to bed and was more than ready to fuck him into the mattress. He surprised me, though, by stopping me and telling me to slow down. Each and every time I tried to speed up even just a tiny little bit, he would hold onto my hips to stop the movement or hop up and ride me torturously slow. Now don’t get me wrong. I know he likes ‘making love’ every once in a while, and on occasion I’ll admit I don’t necessarily mind it. But Justin likes fucking. He loves fucking hard, rough, and fast. He loves it when I make him scream and beg for more as he writhes and goes crazy underneath me with every touch. We haven’t fucked in days. I’m seriously starting to wonder what the fuck is going on.
Today was even worse. We met the gang at the diner for breakfast this morning and the entire time he was touching me constantly. Whether he was holding my hand underneath the table, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek, or slinging his arm around my shoulder, he was all over me. And I’m not the only one that noticed, which made it worse. Emmett kept giving me a knowing smile with an obnoxious twinkle in his eye, Mikey was staring so hard I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head, Ben was trying to act like he didn’t see anything, and Theodore was unsuccessfully trying to hide his snickering.
He wasn’t even this fucking clingy after I first started pushing him to venture out after the bashing. But I held on tightly to his hand, smiled when he kissed my cheek, and even went in closer to his embrace each and every time in hopes that he would start realizing I’m not the same guy anymore. To make matters even more uncomfortable, he literally referred to me as his ‘hubby’ the entire time. As if things weren’t already awkward enough. Here I thought HE was going to be the one freaking out… but instead I am… actually I’m beyond the point of freaking out. Christ, I think I’m going mental.
As I walk into the loft today, I find myself treading slowly; watching out for what awaits me this time. I hear soft music playing and the lights are dimmed. Hmmm… my eyes focus on the center of the loft as I set my briefcase and coat on the kitchen counter. Justin is lying nude on the floor surrounded by candlelight, making his alabaster skin glow beautifully. Two large garment bags that I recognize from a downtown, high-class clothing story are draped across the couch nearby and there is a picnic spread out I the center of a crimson tablecloth. I see him blink up at me slowly under fully hooded eyes, easily recognizing the full-blown lust that has made them darker than usual.
“Strip,” was the husky, one-word demand.
I sigh internally in relief. The Justin I know must be back from wherever the fuck his mind has been off to these past few days. Thank fucking God! Now I just need to focus on getting him to leave the Pitts. Which is proving to be much more difficult than I ever imagined…
After voicing my demand, I see him practically tear his clothes off his body as he soon stands before me. God, he’s so fucking beautiful! He kneels down in front of me and I pull his lips in for a sloppy, wet kiss before tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth. I can feel the heat coming off his body.
I pull back and he breathlessly says, “What are you up to, Sunshine?”
Okay, here we go. The grand finale that I know is going to completely throw him over the edge. The entire week I’ve been doing practically everything I can to drive him completely crazy, and I know it’s working. I’ve been picking out for-shit furniture that he thinks I am dying to have at Britin and I just know he is having a fit on the inside. The furniture is hideous and looks like something out of an All-American, traditional family home. In other words, perfect stuff for the happy hetero couple. Then, I’ve been forcing him to eat my meals past seven and putting on a sad face if he tries to say no, pouting and telling him that I worked hard on it, yada yada. I’ve made sure I’ve been obsessively clingy at all times and calling him little nicknames like hubby, honey, and sweetie in front of everyone! He tries to hide it, but I see him wince each and every time I use nicknames for him.
I gotta hand it to him, though; he’s really been sticking it out. The worst part, however, has been the sex – or should I say lack thereof. Every night except one where I indicated I just wanted to cuddle, there has been no sex. And the one time I DID give in I saw that wild look in his eyes that meant he wanted to fuck me all throughout the night until I couldn’t cum again and I took advantage of my opportunity. As hard as it was, and trust me, it was fucking TORTURE, I kept the pace super slow. I’ve made sure every single night has ended with cuddling. And I have to admit, it’s pretty addictive… I feel so safe and warm in his arms; I never want to untangle myself from his embrace in the mornings. I feel so loved and special whenever he holds me because I KNOW that he’s never been so intimate and held anyone else like this before, and that fills me with immense satisfaction.
I prepare myself for him to go ape and completely lose his shit when he see’s what I have in the bags. He gave me the perfect idea when he FINALLY agreed that he wanted to be with me in our own way. He’s going to freak.
I get up and walk over to the two black, vinyl bags nearby. I hold one up as I pull one of the zippers down and say with a mysterious smile, “I have a surprise for you.”
Taking the expensive suit out, I drop the bag to the floor as I retrieve the other matching suit from the second bag and hold them up for his scrutiny. The look on his face is absolutely priceless as his skin turns red and a vein pops out on the side of his neck. He looks like he’s going to explode any second.
Time to put the icing on the cake. I look down at him and bat my eyes innocently with a bright smile spreading across my face before asking, “Whaddya think? Aren’t they stunning? I got us matching Vera Wang suits for our wedding day! Are you surprised, babe?”
He stands up and I see his jaw clench. And here we go… In 3… 2… 1…
He throws his hands up in the air with a crazy look in his eyes and says. “What in the fuck are you doing!? WHO ARE YOU? BECAUSE YOU SURE AS FUCK AREN’T THE JUSTIN I KNOW! This entire week it’s like I’ve been living with Emmett for fucks sake, with all this cuddling and wanting to “slow down” and picking out furniture that even a BLIND person wouldn’t buy. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE?!”
I can’t help busting out laughing as I’m practically rolling on the floor. He’s looking over at me like I really have gone insane, which, in my present state I probably am doing a good job of imitating. I try to calm myself as much as I can as I walk over to him with a feeling of pride that I actually fooled him and got away with it.
I tilt my head and give him my most evil gleam as I grin and say, “It doesn’t feel so great having someone try to act like someone they aren’t just to push you away does it, Brian?”
I see his eyes flash for a second with confusion before I see the moment of epiphany bloom on his face and I smirk. “I’m onto you, Mr. Kinney; always have been and always will be.”
“Why, you little shit,” he replies in a low, throaty tone.
He saunters closer to me and I feel my breath catch in my throat as he literally sweeps me up into his arms, the suits falling neglected to the floor as he races up to the bedroom and tosses me onto the bed. I see the predatory look and the fire burning in his eyes as he pounces on top of me and roughly wedges his knee in between my legs and pins my hands up above my head.
I feel his hot breath swipe against my cheek as he leans down and whispers, “You’re gonna pay for this.” Oh, fuck.
I shiver as he kisses the extremely sensitive spot beneath my ear and begins to grind his dick against mine. Our precum mixing together makes them glide against each other and causes the hottest and most pleasurable sensation as I groan in reaction.
He reaches on the nightstand to grab lube and a condom and quickly sheaths it on his dick. I lick my lips in anticipation; Brian’s fucks are so amazing when he’s all fired up and pissed. He looks down at me with those big, dark, lust-filled hazel eyes. I feel his dick hovering at my entrance and try to pull him closer, but he pulls away and smirks, “I’m gonna fuck you over and over so hard that you won’t be able to sit down without feeling me for weeks.”
I can’t help it as I breathlessly reply, “Wouldn’t you rather just cuddle?”
He responds by growling as he reaches down to pull me into a long, deep kiss and sinks all the way into me hard in one swift thrust that makes my entire body tremble with desire.
And that’s when I know that I have my Brian back. And no matter how many more times he tries to push me away, I’ll always be ready to push right back.