When Justin entered the kitchen, Brian, who was pouring two mugs of coffee, began moaning softly, “Fuck me, fuck me…Yes, yes, harder, oh (he held this syllable for a few seconds) harder (his voice broke on this word)…”

Justin blushed deeply, let his head fall, and squeezed his eyes shut. Brian smirked, put the coffee pot back on the burner, and moved behind Justin. He slid his arms around Justin’s waist (causing Justin to jump a little and Brian’s eyes to dance) and leaned his cheek against Justin’s. Justin was an even brighter red now, but only partly due to shame. Brian whispered (against Justin’s neck), “Who were you thinking about when you had your hand on your dick? When you were stroking it and moaning?”

Justin wondered how it was possible that he didn’t know…how could he have heard every word but his own name?

Brian prodded, “Joe? Or someone else?”

Feeling Brian’s lips (and the warm puffs of his breath) against his skin and hearing the huskiness in Brian’s voice, Justin shivered.  

Brian continued, his voice dropping a shade lower, “Who is it that you want to fuck you?”

Unexpectedly, Brian spun Justin around then so that they were facing each other. Justin was panting, his eyes open now, but directed toward the floor. Brian lifted Justin’s chin slowly with a finger until their eyes met. Justin’s held a curious expression…a combination of surprise, excitement, and fear.

When Brian had started teasing Justin, that’s all it was. Teasing. And not just teasing, but teasing Justin (as opposed to himself). He wanted to see the blond blush and maybe even hear him stammer. Embarrassing Justin like that always gave Brian (and his cock) a thrill, but now, seeing Justin blushing, panting, and trembling a little…leaning so close to him that he could feel the heat coming off Justin in waves…so close to his perfect lips…so plump and cherry red, he suddenly forgot all about his initial goal. In this moment, all Brian wanted was to feel Justin’s lips (and body) crushed against his, to taste him again, to squeeze his luscious ass again, to fist his silky blond hair again.

Brian licked his lips and leaned a little closer. In response, Justin drew his breath in sharply and then licked his lips, too. His eyelids drooped. His cock was so hard again, achingly hard, maybe harder than it had ever been. In this moment, all Justin wanted was for Brian to kiss him, like in his dream, but he was so scared. Even terrified. He never knew when Brian was just teasing him. Justin wasn’t stupid, and he’d have to be to believe that Brian thought of him in only a platonic way. He had seen Brian’s cock swell (Brian wore such tight pants all the time), on more than one occasion after touching Justin, and he knew that Brian had been jerking himself off during both their phone sex calls. But…Brian still hadn’t made any real move. Was this it? Would Brian finally kiss him? Would Brian want to fuck him? Just thinking about the possibility (imagining himself bent over the couch, Brian thrusting into him sinuously), Justin shivered (a full body shiver). His eyes fluttered closed and then open again.

Brian leaned in even closer. Justin couldn’t hold back a soft moan. But it was somewhat muffled when Brian’s lips reached Justin’s. Brian’s hands went immediately to Justin’s ass and Justin’s into Brian’s hair. They both pulled each other closer by the respective parts they were holding, while also thrusting their tongues into the other’s mouth. There was no pause…a second after their lips touched, their tongues were struggling…not for dominance. Just for more…for more of what set their bodies on fire…for a deeper connection…Brian and Justin were ravenous for something that could not sate but only stoke their desire.    

Then Justin was fumbling with Brian’s jeans, struggling to unbutton and unzip them, desperate to feel Brian’s erection, to stroke the man’s dick. He kind of wanted to drop to his knees and suck Brian off, but he was too nervous. Plus, he never wanted the kissing to end, one because it was sending heat and electricity coursing through every part of his body (causing him to feel all melty and floaty) and two because he couldn’t keep this going if Brian looked at him. He would be so embarrassed and unsure of himself if he felt Brian’s penetrating gaze on him. He didn’t want to answer questions (like what does this mean? or what does this say about your feelings for Joe?), not his own or Brian’s. He knew that he would respond way, way too honestly right now. He would exclaim, “It means that I’m falling in love with you…that I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything…Joe doesn’t exist; he never did. I just didn’t have the balls to tell you I wanted you...that I liked you.”

When Justin’s hand finally found Brian’s cock, he squeezed it tight, causing Brian to moan into Justin’s mouth, swiped the precum off the tip, and then started sliding his hand along the shaft. Justin gasped (and almost, almost broke their kiss) when he felt Brian’s hand sliding into his shorts and then on his cock. And when Brian began to jerk him off, the heat and electricity intensified to such an extent that he felt dizzy.

And Brian…he was taken aback. He was so surprised by the intensity of Justin’s passion, Justin’s want, and his own, as well as the plain old happiness he was feeling, that it was like all his filters and walls had been temporarily deactivated. At the moment, he didn’t have the brain capacity to judge anything, not even himself. Not really. He merely observed, with unusual detachment, that he’d never before kissed anyone this deeply or this long, that he hadn’t jerked anyone off or been jerked off by anyone since high school, and that he’d never been more turned on in his life. He also noted that Justin had been the first one to take their make out session to a new level and that that made him happy, even ecstatic. Justin clearly wanted him. So much that not even the mention of Joe could stop him from indulging. To that, his only response was the observation that that knowledge caused his chest to ache a bit…and some hole inside him to shrink…some part of him to feel less empty.

Then they were both cumming and kissing each other even more desperately. Only when their orgasms had ceased shuddering through them did they break apart, but only for a second, long enough for their arms to slide around each other, for them to fall together in a cum covered, sweaty heap (though they were still standing). They held onto each other tightly, so tightly, neither knowing what would come next, what they wanted to come next. They were spared this consideration, this decision, by the shrill ringing of the phone. Justin pulled away and then just stood there for a second, his mouth open slightly, as though he might say something, his eyes wide and afraid, but no words came. Brian smiled softly then, his eyes twinkling, which caused Justin to relax and smile back. Then he went to answer the phone. It was a telemarketer. Justin didn’t say anything. He just hung up. Then he went into the bedroom and stripped off his clothes, wiping the cum off with them. He then put on a new pair of shorts and a new T-shirt and grabbed sweats he thought might fit Brian, as well as a washcloth, which he dampened. When he returned to the living room, Brian was standing right where Justin had left him, only now in only a thong. Justin blushed a little and handed Brian the washcloth and the sweats.    

Then he muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Brian drawled, “Sorry’s bullshit” and smiled. Then he cleaned up and dressed. Unsure what he should do or say, Justin sat down at the computer and turned it on, but then got up to get the cup of coffee Brian had poured him. When he returned, Brian was at the computer. He had a browser open.

He asked, “When’s the last time you checked your email?”

Justin  shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three days.”

“You have 75 new emails.”

“What?”

“All from the dating Web sites where we posted your profile.”

Justin didn’t speak. The last thing he wanted to think about was their plan for Justin to snag the imaginary ‘Joe.’

Brian was quickly skimming through the emails. Justin just stood behind him, drinking his coffee, hoping Brian would soon lose interest. After a few minutes, Brian stated woodenly, “Looks like you got your man.”

Justin’s head shot up, and he nearly choked on his coffee (he’d been taking a sip when Brian had spoken).

Brian asked, the tone of his voice unreadable, “This is him, right? Joe. Tall and lean. Brown hair. Golden skin. Strong and somewhat muscular. Decent sized cock.”

Justin’s eyes widened. A man named Joe of that description had indeed emailed him. Justin still hadn’t recovered the power of speech. He could only gape.

Brian continued, again in that unreadable tone, “Wow. He sounds perfect for you. He’s a chef at some fancy French restaurant downtown. He’s ‘a snuggler.’ And he’s ‘had his fun.’ Now he ‘wants to find Mr. Right and settle down.’”

Justin closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He only had one thought, “No, no, no, no, no, no…”

TBC…(please let me know what you think of the first-middle part...I spent so long working on it...and I'm dying for feedback)