The gallery, first floor, Thursday, July 23rd, 6:45 p.m.

Gabriel juggles the mushroom sauce and the other dishes. Tossing the roasted mix of vegetables - potatoes, carrots, and new onions - he uses a spatula to pick up the meat and flip it over, the butter caramelizing the filet mignon. Once he’s satisfied everything is under control, he sets the dials to low, so all the dishes will simmer.

He’s fucking nervous. He strides to the dinner table and checks it one more time, rearranging the cutlery, just as a ring resonates through the apartment.

He takes a deep breath, muttering to himself, “You can do this.” before going to the door and pushing the intercom button to let Connor in.

After opening the front door, Gabriel sees the brunet approaching, talking on the phone.

“He left while I was in my studio. I haven’t seen him since this afternoon.” Connor intones. He peers at Gabriel, the look on his face making the blond understand that something’s wrong.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“It’s Liam,” Connor discloses before refocusing on his conversation with the photographer. “He’s probably lost track of time. You know that we artists are selfish douchebags.”

“Give me the phone,” Gabriel demands, holding out his hand.

Connor narrows his eyes at Gabriel, but when the man keeps staring at him expectantly, he relents, informing Liam, “Your bestie wants to talk to you.”

“Liam,” Gabriel greets his friend, snatching Connor’s phone. “What’s going on?” He waits for Liam’s response and makes a quick decision. “We’ll come and help you search for him.”

He ends the call, hurriedly turns off the burners, grabs a jacket, snatches his keys from the table, and joins Connor. Noticing the baffled look on his face, he pushes the brunet out of his apartment and locks the door behind them.

“You do realize that Liam is overreacting and that Justin is probably just connecting with himself. He’s the kind of artist who would dance naked in the sunshine and hop around trying to follow a butterfly.” Connor declares sardonically as they reach Gabriel’s car.

“Better safe than sorry,” Gabriel counters, sliding behind the wheel of his pickup. “If Liam called you, he must be worried. Put your seatbelt on.”

Connor pinches the back of Gabriel’s neck, obeying the man’s order nonetheless.

Gabriel rubs his abused skin as he drives off, quipping, “Why do you feel the need to be so loving?”

“You’re supposed to serenade me, not commiserate with Liam,” Connor deadpans.

“I’m supposed to serenade you?” Gabriel snorts.

“Grovel would be more accurate,” Connor articulates. “Beg me, even.”

“Beg you for what?” Gabriel taunts, amused by the brunet’s repartee.

“So you end up in my bed and maybe then, if you ask nicely, I will suck you off,” Connor replies.

Gabriel pretends to think about it, responding, “Hmm, that’s good to know. I may consider a little begging then.”

Connor gives him a look but keeps quiet for the rest of the ride.

***

Brian has been waiting for Justin at the chalet for more than an hour. At first, he thought that the blond had lost track of time and was probably admiring the valley somewhere, but when he first tried to reach him, Justin didn’t answer his phone. In any other circumstances, Brian wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but he’s learned to trust his instincts in the last few years. And he has a feeling Justin wouldn’t ignore him after what happened the previous night, when Brian shared his fears about something terrible happening to the people he cares for.

So, here he is, pacing across the porch, waiting for Connor and Gabriel to arrive while calling Justin's phone one more time, without success. When he hears Gabriel’s car turn into his driveway, Brian immediately walks toward the back of the chalet and heads for the pickup.

“Hey,” Gabriel nods at him as soon as he gets out of the car. “No word from Justin yet?”

“No. I tried to call him on his cell at least a dozen times, but he isn’t responding.” Brian curtly replies, directing his gaze at Connor. “He was fine when you saw him, right?”

“He was,” Connor confirms, slamming the pickup door shut.

“What do you want us to do?” Gabriel asks.

“Can you take the pickup and drive toward the woods to check for his car?” Brian inquires. “I’ll take the Harley down the road leading to the Point.”

“Sure,” Gabriel agrees. “It’s probably safer that you don’t navigate through the woods anyway. The dirt roads are dry, but they’re still quite risky for a motorcycle, what with all the potholes.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Connor interjects, although Brian notices his tone lacks the usual sarcasm.

“I’m not taking any chances. He was supposed to be here over an hour ago.” he retorts.

“Okay!” Connor raises his hands in feigned defense, before sliding into the Jeep. “Let’s go in search of the wandering artist.”

Gabriel nods at Brian. “I’ll call you if we find his car.”

“You do that,” Brian responds, as he walks to the carport, hastily putting on his helmet and climbing onto his Harley.

Ten minutes later, Brian is slowly driving to the Point, checking the edges of the road, trying to discern any trace of Justin’s rental. Deciding to pull over to check his phone, his heart skips a beat when he notices two recent, missed calls from Gabriel. Just as he is about to call him back, his phone rings.

“Anything?” he asks sharply as he picks up. Listening to his friend’s answer, he feels his blood run cold. “I’m on my way,” he gasps, immediately disconnecting the call and placing his phone back in his inner pocket, before putting the motorcycle in motion.

He reaches the usually deserted path leading to the small viewpoint nearest his chalet a couple of minutes later. Struggling to breathe as he turns off the Harley, Brian stares at the banged-up rental on the edge of the path, and keeps repeating to himself that Justin is alright.

“Justin!” He exclaims, rushing to the car. The vehicle obviously rolled over a couple of times, before hitting a pine tree. The driver’s door is totally crumpled, but Connor and Gabriel have forced it open, probably when they noticed Justin trapped inside. The painter is now kneeling on the ground, quietly addressing the blond still sitting behind the wheel.

“...good,” Connor is talking in a surprisingly gentle tone. “You must have blacked out for a while, but you seem fine.” He gazes up at Brian and gives him a small nod of reassurance, moving to let the man kneel by his side.

“You hit your head?” Brian surmises as he discovers dried blood on Justin’s face. Turning to look at Connor, he demands, “What the fuck happened?”

“Brian…” Justin whispers when he sees the brunet. Brian hopes Connor and Gabriel don’t notice Justin’s slip, although he doesn’t care at the moment.

“He hit a deer,” Gabriel discloses. He’s on the phone a couple of feet away, calling for an ambulance, and resumes speaking to the 9-1-1 dispatcher.

“Are you alright?” Brian asks, carefully touching Justin’s head.

“I’m fine… kind of numb,” Justin complains as he straightens in his seat, Brian reaching out to help him. “I hit my head, I think, and my seatbelt… my seatbelt was stuck, and with the airbag and the door... I couldn’t move. And I can’t find my phone. It must have flown somewhere when I crashed.”

“Yes, the door was dented and very hard to open. Plus, we had to cut the seatbelt and deactivate the airbag. It’s a good thing Gabriel had a knife in the pickup.” Connor confirms, before smiling at Justin. “But since you remember your name, what day it is, where you are, and don’t feel like screaming from the pain, I think it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much okay. Plus, the fact that you remember me means you’re definitely sane.”

Justin chuckles, although he grimaces, too. “Stop making me laugh. It hurts.”

“You fucking scared me,” Brian breathes out, interrupting their exchange. Eying the dried blood on Justin’s face, he inquires as he touches the blond’s ribs and notices him wincing, “Are you sure you’re alright, though?”

“Here, move your legs over here,” Connor encourages. Justin shifts his legs, still sitting on the seat, while Brian moves to let him place his feet on the ground. “Look at my fingers. How many do you see?”

“Three,” Justin answers.

“And now?” Connor pushes.

“Still three.” Justin blinks.

“Good,” Brian praises before specifying, “but we’re going to the clinic to have your head examined. Your ribs too. And to check for any internal injuries.”

Justin looks up at him, understanding Brian needs to make sure he’s alright. “Okay.”

“Do you think you have any broken bones? Feel dizzy at all?” Brian persists.

“I don’t think so,” Justin answers, reaching for Brian’s hand and placing it on his lap, interlacing their fingers.

“I already palpated his body to check for injuries. Except for the bump on his head and the tenderness around his ribs, he seems to be fine. His body is still hard and firm.” Connor concludes playfully. When Brian glares, he adds, smirking, “What? It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And don’t worry, using the word ‘hard’ as a qualification doesn’t mean that I checked his dick. I’m not a pervert, just an irresistible dickhead.”

Brian rolls his eyes.

“The ambulance should be here in a few minutes.” Gabriel announces as he joins them.

“Okay,” Brian hoarsely responds, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He caresses Justin’s hand, not giving a damn about acting so protective in front of Connor and Gabriel. Connor looks at him penetratingly, though, prompting him to snarl, “What?”

“You’re acting like a man in love. It’s sweet,” Connor articulates, grinning.

“Says the man who has been helplessly in love with the same man for the past twenty years,” Brian mutters, although he doesn’t say it loud enough for Gabriel to hear him, the gallery owner having walked back to his car.

“I’m not surprised you two have fucked,” Justin interjects in a jesting tone, surprising Brian. He never hid his relationship with the painter, but hasn’t yet disclosed to Justin that Connor has been his fuckbuddy for the past few months.

“You mean, we’re both irresistible dickheads?” Connor quips. Brian glares at him, understanding the painter is the one who told Justin about them fucking.

“I should have known you’d gossip all around town about having great sex with me,” Brian counters, deciding to let it go. Truthfully, he is relieved that Justin doesn’t seem to care.

“You’re quite confident about your skills,” Connor teases back. “It’s not like our fucking sessions were a secret, anyway. Or that we would keep on sleeping together. And really, Justin, it should tell you something about how desperate I really was.”

“Fuck you!” Brian punches Connor’s shoulder, while Justin laughs and ends up coughing. “Easy,” he immediately advises in a gentle voice, caressing the blond’s back.

“You wouldn’t have fucked me if you had any other option?” Connor asks with false incredulity.

“That’s beside the point,” Brian replies, making sure Justin is alright. Addressing Connor, he asserts, “You like me. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“You’re a decent guy,” Connor concedes, standing up as they hear a siren in the distance.

“And you’re annoying as shit.” Brian retorts, although he gives the painter a small smile.

“They’ll be here any minute,” Gabriel announces as he comes back with a blanket and gives it to Brian. The brunet immediately drapes it around Justin’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Justin wraps the blanket more tightly around himself and looks up at Gabriel and Connor, repeating, “Really, thank you. I hope I didn’t ruin your evening.”

“Well, now that you mention it...” Connor begins, but Gabriel promptly elbows him in the ribs.

“We had nothing planned,” he claims with a smile.

Connor narrows his eyes at Gabriel, before refocusing his stare on Justin. “You did ruin Gabriel’s attempt to cook a decent dinner.” he contradicts, laughter bubbling from his chest when Gabriel playfully pushes him away.

“The evening is still young, guys,” Brian intervenes, noticing Justin seems pleased with Connor’s surprisingly relaxed behavior toward Gabriel.

As both his friends move a few feet away, Brian gazes at Justin’s face, carefully touching the bump on his head.

“I’m fine, B… Liam.” Justin reassures him.

“Let the doctor be the judge of that, okay?” Brian softly replies. “If anything happens to you…”

“Hey,” Justin asserts, covering the brunet’s hand with his own. “I’m fine.”

Brian doesn’t respond and rests his forehead on Justin’s lap, waiting for the ambulance, focusing on the blond’s hand softly caressing the back of his neck.

***

Twenty minutes later

After the ambulance arrived, Gabriel and Connor drove back to the apartment above the gallery, neither man saying much. The painter could feel Gabriel was nervous, even though the man hid his anxiety pretty well.

“You hungry?” Gabriel inquires as he enters his place, heading straight to the stove to turn on the burners and reheat their meal.

“Hungry?” Connor repeats distractedly, his gaze sweeping around the living room. “Not really.”

Gabriel begins to stir the vegetables. “You were amazing with Justin.”

“I can act like a decent human being once in a while.” Connor responds with a shrug.

“You like Justin.” Gabriel counters, glancing at the brunet emphatically.

“I do,” Connor surprisingly answers, purposely ignoring Gabriel’s gaze as he picks up a flyer about the gallery from the coffee table, before letting it drop.

Gabriel redirects his gaze to the pan. Connor looks at him and furtively questions why he’s here, since he already knows that this - whatever they have - won’t last.

He remembers the day he realized he was in love with his childhood friend. He was a thirteen-year-old kid who had been beaten up by Kevin Bowen, one of his classmates - a bully who usually went after younger, smaller kids. The attack happened while Gabriel was home, sick - Kevin having assaulted Connor on his way home from school with the help of three of his acolytes. Although Kevin had never bullied Connor, the brunet kept humiliating the nitwit at school, ensuring everyone knew that he was a knucklehead. Once, he’d even convinced Kevin to lower his jeans in the middle of the cafeteria, claiming that a black widow had crawled up his pant leg and was about to bite him, which would cause his dick to drop off. Another time, he’d persuaded Kevin to drink toilet water to get rid of an imaginary tapeworm - it really was the only way - and had gestured to all the students walking by to enter the bathroom while Kevin had his head in the toilet bowl.

Connor’s always had a big mouth.

But in that instance, his unique sense of humor sent him to the hospital, Kevin having beaten the shit out of him. When Gabriel discovered how severely injured Connor had been, he chased the boy down. Connor isn’t sure what happened between the two of them, but he knows one thing. Kevin never bullied anyone again. He even apologized to Connor and turned himself around.

That’s when Connor realized Gabriel wasn't just a friend, twenty years ago.

Gabriel has hurt him so much in the past, but Connor believes he’s sincere today. If the gallery owner hadn’t waited fifteen years to tell him he loved him, everything could have been different between them. It’s too late now, although Connor isn’t strong enough to deny them one night together. He refuses to think past that moment.

Inhaling deeply, Connor moves toward Gabriel and stops behind him. He touches his arm, the blond pretending to ignore him as he keeps stirring the vegetables cooking in the pan.

“Forget the food and come with me,” Connor demands as he leans closer and breathes against the side of his neck, grabbing his hand. Gabriel peers back at him questioningly, but Connor simply leans forward, turning off the burners.

“What do you have in mind?” Gabriel inquires as he lets Connor guide them toward his bedroom.

“I have plenty in mind,” Connor responds as they enter the room. There, he lets go of Gabriel’s hand and begins to divest himself of his clothes.

Gabriel stands still, seemingly frozen in place while Connor stares at him unflinchingly. He takes off his shoes, then his shirt, and carelessly drops them to the floor. He is beautiful, although a little skinny, and knows the effect he has on men. Gabriel has trouble keeping his gaze on him, probably made a little uncomfortable by Connor’s bold move, but at the same time, he doesn’t look away. The brunet opens his pants and lowers them along with his boxers. He stands still, completely naked, his face expressionless, as Gabriel steps closer to him, their eyes affixed to one another.

Gabriel’s finger slides down Connor’s chest. Connor’s breathing catches in his throat at the gesture, even more so when Gabriel doesn’t stop and moves to his thigh, before placing the palm of his hand on his hip and inducing the painter to kiss him.

Connor forgets everything else, focusing on the feeling of Gabriel’s lips, his hands. He starts undressing him.

A moment later, he finally feels Gabriel’s skin underneath his fingers. They’re still kissing, barely taking the time to breathe. Connor maneuvers Gabriel so the man falls backward onto the bed, the painter immediately lying on top of him. At that point, the blond only has his underwear on, and Connor pushes them down as he starts exploring Gabriel’s neck, his shoulder, his arm, the side of his chest. His lips roam over the skin, so soft and warm, shivering under his touch. He wants this man so badly. Make him come, feel his desire, mark him by giving him more pleasure than any woman ever has.

“Connor, I… We should...” Gabriel rasps out when Connor, unable to restrain his need to make Gabriel his in every way, grazes his dick with his mouth, barely touching it.

The blond probably wants to talk about what they’re doing, but the painter doesn't want to wait any longer, so he starts lapping at the head of his cock. He inhales as he does, Gabriel’s scent sending a shot of arousal down his spine and into his balls.  

“Ohh…” Gabriel groans as Connor, urged on by his own desire, hums around the head before slowly moving his lips down.

He marvels at the feeling of the blond’s shaft progressing into his mouth then withdrawing. Gabriel lets out a high-pitched groan, causing Connor to suck harder because he wants to hear the blond moan like that again.

“Ahhh…” Gabriel cries out, propelling his hips upward.

Connor uses all the tricks he knows to pleasure the blond, alternating between hard and soft touches, swirling his tongue, lapping, devouring - driving the man wild.

“Connor…” Gabriel calls out, yanking on his lover’s hair to slow him down. Connor ignores him and encircles the blond’s cock with his hand to jerk him off, prompting his lover to surrender to his ministrations as he begins to fuck his mouth. Soon, Gabriel is chanting, “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” his voice tinged with a desperate edge.

A few seconds later, his orgasm pours out of him and into Connor’s mouth, Gabriel’s shouts of pleasure resonating in the bedroom. The painter is really turned on by the blond’s response to his blowjob, but even more so, he’s astounded that this is really happening, that Gabriel is with him, experiencing sex with a man for the first time in his life and behaving like he’s never wanted anything more.

The blond’s breathing is ragged, his body covered in sweat. When he opens his eyes, he stares at the ceiling in wonder, and breathes out, “Wow. Gay sex is so good.” He finally peers down at Connor, who is staring back at him, propped on his elbows with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“You’re aware that being blown can happen with either a man or a woman,” Connor deadpans, caressing Gabriel’s thigh.

“I’m sure you will be pleased to know no woman has ever blown me like you just did.” Gabriel vows as he props himself up on his elbows too, facing Connor.

“Women are boring,” Connor asserts.

“Hmm…” Gabriel half nods, half laughs, pushing Connor onto his back and rolling on top of him. “You’re really hard.”

“Such a perceptive man,” Connor articulates, pushing his hard-on more against Gabriel. “You plan to do something about it?”

Gabriel doesn’t respond. Instead, he lowers his head and crawls down Connor’s body. The painter frowns, surprised by Gabriel’s move, and waits.

“I want to…” Gabriel hesitates, “blow you. I’m just not sure how I-”

“You’ll do fine,” Connor reassures him, understanding Gabriel is nervous about not giving him as much pleasure. “Just promise me not to do anything you’re not comfortable with and you will… Ahh,” His voice trails off as Gabriel takes him in his mouth, not waiting for Connor to finish his thought. The brunet smiles, gasping as Gabriel’s tongue traces the side of his shaft. “If you want to play dirty, I think we… we will… I...”

He gives up on talking when Gabriel starts humming confidently around his cock, forgetting everything but the blond’s mouth on him.

***

They make love for hours. When Connor enters Gabriel for the first time after having preparing him unhurriedly to ensure that the blond’s first experience will be as painless as possible, he almost loses it. He doesn’t trust his voice, and keeps his forehead on his lover's back as he pushes inside him. Being an emotional mess at this point, he wonders if sleeping with Gabriel is a mistake, one he will however never regret.

Gabriel tenses at the beginning. Connor pauses, his eyes closed, his mouth open as he fights not to plunge forward. The thought that he’s inside Gabriel is almost too much to take.

Connor focuses on caressing and kissing his lover, merely undulating his hips, until he feels the man starts to push against him.

Gabriel eventually pulls himself up on his knees, glancing at Connor over his shoulder. While he had a hard time relaxing at first, he is now gasping anytime the brunet comes and goes inside him, urging his lover on. At one point, Connor has to close his eyes, the image of the blond looking at him with such a blissful expression on his face being too much of a turn-on.

Withdrawing, Connor rolls Gabriel onto his back, immediately penetrating him again and leaning down, needing to feel his skin against his own. He keeps moving, until he can’t, the bliss filling his body morphing into an overwhelming urge to let go. Leaning on his hands to support himself, he pauses and stares at Gabriel’s face.

“I love being inside you,” he says before covering Gabriel’s lips, their smothered cries intensifying when he resumes his thrusts.

His orgasm nears. He breaks their kiss, gazing at Gabriel, wanting to see every nuance on his face as he guides his lover’s hand up and down his neglected shaft. “That’s it, Gabe.” he whispers with a last squeeze to increase the rapture they’re both feeling, Gabriel’s ass clenching around his cock.

The blond throws his head back with a moan, Connor leaning down to breathe out in his ear, “ You feel… so good.”

He then starts licking Gabriel’s neck, bending his leg to fuck him deeper. The blond cries out loudly as Connor pounds into him without restraint and falls over the edge, surges of come erupting between them. Feeling Gabriel’s orgasm rhythmically milking his cock, Connor explodes deep inside his lover with a scream and collapses, breathless.

It takes him a few minutes to realize he hasn’t pulled out. Gabriel hasn’t moved either and is still lying under him, absently playing with Connor’s hair while the brunet’s face is buried in his neck.

Connor refuses to move. He never thought that having sex with the man he loves could be so different. And he loves Gabriel, completely. Sometimes, he even thinks it's unhealthy to feel so much. He can’t be with him, however, and pushing him away is going to kill him, but he doesn’t have a choice. So, he eventually pulls out and ties off the condom. When he does, Gabriel opens his eyes. Connor wants to flee when he sees the way Gabriel is looking at him. But before he can do or say anything, the blond kisses him again. Twenty minutes later, Gabriel is pushing into him.

Later that night, Connor waits for Gabriel to fall asleep in his arms before quietly slipping out of the bed and sneaking away. Ten minutes later, he enters his home and trashes his living room.

When he’s done, he heads for his office and slams the door shut. Retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, he glares at the screen signalling one new message and is very close to throwing the cell violently against the wall. But he doesn’t, going to sit at his desk and turning on the computer instead.

One hour later, he snatches a sheet of paper from the printer, staring between it and the article on display on his computer. He winces and briefly closes his eyes, his inner rage not having diminished. The article he’s holding was written by a Pittsburgh reporter almost eight years ago, and is about a high school student having been bashed at his prom. On the picture illustrating the article, Justin is dancing with his male lover.

The legend says, ‘Justin Taylor and his lover, Brian Kinney.’

On the computer screen is another article written six years ago, headed, ‘An advertising executive murdered, shot in an alley’. The picture accompanying the article shows the same man, a handsome guy in his thirties, looking right at the photographer and barely smiling, although it looks like he’s inwardly mocking you.

Connor pinches the bridge of his nose as he recalls the conversation he had with Liam and Justin when the photographer joined them to rescue the blond - and the name Justin used to reassure Liam.

“Brian…”

“You’re supposed to be fucking dead,” Connor whispers, alone in his studio, his heart thumping. He squints as if in pain and grabs his phone to turn it on, peering once more at the message he received earlier that night.

It's been four days. Has Taylor recognized Byron yet?

Connor stares at the question, not moving for long moments. In the end, he types a two-letter answer and throws his cell back on his desk before leaning down, burying his head in his hands.