Roger Hamilton’s POV
Days Inn, Jackson, MS
Sunday April 9, 2006 5:04 PM

I sat down at my little make-shift desk and cast a weary glance at the mounting stack of disks piled on the table to my right and sighed.

Kinney.

It had been over two weeks since I’d gone through the phone logs…even longer since I listened to the recorded calls. But it had been over two months and the guy wasn’t making a move. I’d become a PI because I thought it would be exciting. Little did I know, 99.9% of the job was paperwork, waiting and research.

Sure, the guy that Kinney had me tracking was one sick fuck. But he hadn’t done a fucking thing worth reporting since I started keeping an eye on him. I was bored and had started to slack.

I shrugged and eyed the stack of disks again. With a sigh I picked up the phone log and started what I thought would be a pointless venture. But if Kinney ever found that I wasn’t doing the job he’d paid me to do, I would be fucked.

I scanned the list of incoming calls then moved on to the outgoing. Yawning, I dug into the bag of chips I’d left open on my desk the night before. The guy made a lot of fucking calls. The usual – bills, friends, family and work, but he also had a bad phone sex habit. I had to wonder how he afforded to make all the calls.

Adam Stevens was a low life. His public record was littered with almost convictions and barely dodged bullets. Somehow, nothing seemed to stick. He tended bar at a local gay club and was involved with the lowest of the low – drug dealers, men with backgrounds to match his own. One of his closest friends was currently under suspicion of running a kiddie-porn ring. Yet, Adam managed to always avoid getting his hands dirty. I’d been watching him for months and hadn’t seen him step one toe over the line of the law.

“1-900-CUMHARD, 1-900-JIZINME, 976-SMAK…Jesus Christ.” I was muttering to myself as I perused the list. I didn’t have a problem with the gays. Some of my friends were gay. But I really hated listening to those calls. Adam had a problem all right, he liked his porn and he liked things hardcore and violent.

I almost missed it, my fingers flying past the smutty sex lines I didn’t notice that a chip crumb had fallen onto the paper and covered up the second 5. But something clicked and I went back. Staring at the number I felt cold dread creep up my spine.

“Fuck! Kinney is going to kill me!”

Scrambling, I franticly searched the disks for the date on the phone logs, almost two weeks ago. Cursing I pushed the CD into its slot and searched for the phone call in question. I listened, disgusted, as Adam’s voice responded to Calvin’s greeting.

“Calvin!”

Calvin was silent.

“Oh come on now, Sweetie. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“What…what can I do for you, Adam?” Calvin asked, voice shaking and unsure. “It’s…been awhile.”

Adam chuckled and it was like ice to my spine. But I marveled at how his voice changed, dropping low and seductive.

“Didn’t you miss me, Calvin?” he asked.

Calvin stuttered when he responded, “Adam, y…you know I…” he started but Adam smoothly cut him off.

“It’s been so long…I thought maybe we could talk…find out what you’ve been up to, what you’ve been doing.”

“I’ve been…busy…with the business…traveling…” Calvin’s voice had softened.

Oh this guy is good.

“I’ve missed you,” Adam said and I heard the catch in Calvin’s breathing; Adam was drawing him in.

“Adam, I’m seeing someone…I shouldn’t…”

Oh shit, no!

Adam chuckled, “So I’ve heard.”

“How did you…”

“People talk, word gets around…..Emmett is it?”

Calvin was stunned to silence.

“Does he treat you good, Cal? As good as I did? It wasn’t all bad with me, was it? We had some good times.” Adam’s voice was low and hypnotic. “Does he make you feel as good as I did?” There was a pause, long enough for me to hear that Calvin’s breathing had sped up.

“You remember how good it was between us, Cal…how many times I could make you come for me.” I heard Calvin’s soft moan and cringed while Adam continued his verbal seduction.

“Meet with me,” Adam whispered.

A pause, just long enough that I thought for sure Calvin would agree but he drew a ragged breath and muttered, “I…I can’t,” before the connection was dropped.

“Fuck!” I yelled.

There were no more suspicious calls on the log, no suspicious calls in the recordings and I listened to every single one of them. There were no further attempts made to contact Calvin. I looked at the clock. 6:30 p.m., Calvin should be punching in at The Purple Rhino at 7:00.

But when I got to the bar there was no sign of him and when I asked about him inside I was told the he’d taken some vacation days and wasn’t due back till next Friday.

I searched for him: his apartment, all his usual haunts, friends, family – Adam was nowhere to be found.

“Fuck!” my stomach dropped

I had to call Kinney.



Brian’s POV
Liberty Air Terminal, Pittsburgh
Sunday April 9, 2006 8:50 PM


“Fuck!”

Voicemail. Rogers’ fucking phone kept rolling to voicemail. I got into the black Lincoln that I’d arranged from the car service and barked out Emmett’s address. The driver pulled into traffic and I alternated between calling Roger and Emmett. Both refused to answer their phones and I wondered – not for the first time in my life – why the fuck people bought cell phones in the first place if they weren’t going to keep them on.

Finally, between frantic dialings, my phone actually rang.

“What the fuck is going on, Hamilton?” I answered and listened in disgust as he filled me in on the details.

As the car made its way to Emmett’s he played the call. Adam was a fucking piece of work; a smooth, slick, manipulative fuck. Cold dread worked its way through my veins as I listened to him talk.

Calvin was fucked. I heard the nostalgia, the longing in his voice. Adam still had him wrapped around his little finger.

When the call was done, I sat, silently contemplating all that I’d heard.

“Roger, what time did this call take place?” I asked. I knew that Adam was on his way, but I wondered how much time we had.

Roger didn’t say anything and my gut clenched. “What time did this call take place, Roger?” I asked again.

“Um…this was at 2:15 pm….two weeks ago….Sir.”

I know I didn’t just hear him say two weeks ago; I prayed, for his sake and Emmett’s that he didn’t say two weeks ago.

“It’s funny…I could have sworn I just heard you say…two weeks ago,” I laughed. “I mean…I know that’s fucking impossible because I’ve given you a fucking retainer large enough to make sure you have plenty of time to devote to this job full-time! Now, if this was from two weeks ago, why am I just hearing about it today?” I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, a headache blooming behind my eyes.

“I…just heard it today…Sir.”

“Today…this happened two weeks ago and you’re just now fucking listening to it? What the fuck am I paying you to do, sit around with your God Damned hand down your pants? THIS is what I’ve been waiting for you dumb FUCK!” I felt my control slipping…this asshole could have cost Emmett his life. But I had to keep a clear head so I tried to calm down. “Listen to me, Roger….are you listening?” I demanded coldly. “You find this motherfucker, earn your money – for once – and live it up because if anything has happened to my friend because of your laziness, when I replace you with a competent PI, I will make sure that you never fucking work again! Is that clear?”

Roger tried to make excuses but all I heard was white noise. “Just shut the fuck up and do the God Damned job I paid you to do!” I said and hung up on him as the car pulled up in front of Emmett’s apartment.

Adam’s POV
Outside Emmett’s Apartment, Pittsburgh, PA
Sunday April 9, 2006 9:10 PM

I watched as the black Lincoln pulled up to the curb outside Femme Boy’s apartment. He was hot and even from across the street I could smell his money. I wondered what Mr. Moneybags was doing slumming in that neighborhood.

He looked pissed. From inside my car I watched him slam the car door and stalk across the street toward the same building from which I had just come. I wondered if Mr. Moneybags knew my new friend Emmett.

When the building door closed I followed him, silently entering behind him as he stomped up the stairs. I stood at the base of the stairs where I could hear him, but couldn’t be seen and listened. My suspicions were confirmed when he stopped at the second floor apartment and pounded on Emmett’s’ door. I couldn’t help but wonder what his story was and how he knew Emmett. But I realized one thing for certain as I listened to the determined man call Emmett’s name; this was not someone I wanted as an adversary.

He called Emmett’s name for a few moments and when he got no response, Mr. Moneybags decided to break in. I heard the soft swish and click of the old credit card trick and the squeal of door hinges then looked at my watch.

I cast one last glance up the stairs as Emmett’s door clicked shut. I didn’t want to be around when Mr. Moneybags came back down the stairs. Besides, I had a late appointment that evening and didn’t want to be late. Smiling to myself, I exited the building and headed for my car. No, I didn’t want to be late.

Brian’s POV
Emmett’s Apartment, Pittsburgh, PA
Sunday April 9, 2006 9:15 PM

“Emmett!” I yelled, pounding on his door. There was no answer. I was about to give up and call Ted when I heard a loud thump coming from inside the apartment. I looked around; no one was in the hallway so with the flick of a credit card the door swung open on its squeaky hinges. I looked around the living room and into the open kitchen. Emmett was no where to be seen. Although I wondered if I’d be able to find him if he just blended in to all the garish and tacky furnishings.

Emmett had decided to move out of Debbie’s when he saw an ad for the apartment. It was cheap and had an enormous industrial kitchen. It was perfect for running his party planning business, Fabulous Festivities by Emmett. It was a ridiculous fucking name but he was doing a booming business. I just hoped that he didn’t bring people back to his apartment for consultations or he’d never get any business.

Slowly, I made my way into the bedroom. The door was open and I could see the closet doors flung wide open and a flurry of clothes strewn around the room. A quick look behind the door and into the deeper recess of the closet showed no one hiding. That left one more room.

The bathroom door was closed which made me uneasy. I paused, wondering if I should knock. Then, from behind the closed bathroom door came another bump and a quiet, muffled moan; I knew I had to make my move. My heart pounded as I placed my hand on the door knob, poised to barge into the bathroom. I hoped to fuck it wasn’t locked or I would lose any advantage I may have.

Another moan from behind the door set me into motion. With a deep breath I pushed open the door and was faced with the most hideous, disgusting sight I’d ever been subjected to. The room was lit with candles and Emmett was in the bathtub, chest deep in cheap floral scented bubbles. He was wearing a zebra print, vinyl shower cap on his head and jerking off with iPod buds in his ears.

The slam of the bathroom door against the wall must have made it through the loud music because Emmett’s eyes flew open and he thrashed about, sloshing water on the floor as he ripped the ear buds from his ears and let out the most obnoxious girly scream.

“Jesus Christ, Emmett! What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were dieing, not jerking off! Fuck! Cover the fuck up and get out of your little lesbo bath…we need to talk!” I barked, throwing him a towel and stalking out to the living room.

I paced while I waited, knowing I’d been harsh but I was so fucking keyed up. Shuddering, I wondered if I’d ever get the vision of him in the bathtub out of my head. I was pissed, scared, relieved, and disgusted.

Emmett flounced into the living room in a satin robe and fuzzy slippers to match his tacky shower cap and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I pulled out a cigarette to calm my nerves.

“Uh uh, Mr. Rude, we do not smoke in the nice, clean FDA approved kitchen,” he said, gesturing grandly to the sparkling clean kitchen which had just been approved to run his catering business. “Now, to what do I own the honor of being interrupted in my bath by an infamous Brian Kinney queen out?” Emmett asked, sitting on the sofa and pulling his robe together at the chest. “You gave me a fucking heart attack, Brian.”

Shit.

That was just one of the many reasons I needed Justin; delicacy and matters of the heart sometimes – okay, most of the time – escaped me. The news I had was not going to be easy to deliver.

I sighed; resigned to a smoke free conversation, I sat on the sofa and looked at Emmett.

“Emmett…this guy…Calvin, has he talked to you about a man named Adam Stevens?” I asked, not knowing quite where to start.

Emmett frowned, “No, he hasn’t. Why?”

For a moment I considered calling Justin or Ted. They were better at this shit than I was.

“Emmett, I’ve had Calvin investigated. When you introduced us, I remembered him from somewhere and I just couldn’t remember where,”

“Investigated? Brian you had no right to…oh my God, Brian, tell me you didn’t fuck Calvin.”

“No, I remembered him because I didn’t fuck him,” I said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Emmett asked, confused. I told him the whole sordid tale. How I had Calvin investigated, from where I remembered him and the piece of work that had been his boyfriend. I told him about Adam, their history, and all the details Roger had uncovered about their abusive relationship. To Emmett’s credit he didn’t interrupt me, he just listened, dumbfounded as I told him about everything that I was able to find out then eventually about the most recent phone call.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Emmett; but, Calvin still has a thing for this fucker…I could hear it in his voice.” I said.

When I was done he blinked his eyes and closed his mouth.

With a furrowed brow he looked at his slippered feet, “You had all of this done without asking me how I felt about it? he asked. I knew he’d be angry. It was inevitable. I was, once again the ass hole. Never mind that I had done it to protect him. He would only see the betrayal. I sighed and girded myself for his anger. But I wouldn’t make excuses for doing what I thought should be done.

“I did,” I admitted.

He nodded. Sometimes Emmett’s silence could be worse than his queen outs – at least when he got angry you knew what you were dealing with. Justin was the same way.

“I believe you, Brian. You aren’t the type to make things up. Maybe Calvin had an abusive relationship with this Adam person. But, clearly he is over the man. He wouldn’t be with me if he wasn’t.” Emmett reasoned and I groaned inwardly.

“Emmett, don’t be an idiot. You know as well as I do how relationships like that go. Men like Adam treat guys like Calvin like yo-yos; just tug on their strings and they come running back. And this Adam is one of the worst; he’s violent and he’s manipulative. You should see the pictures of Calvin’s last attempt at freedom. It wasn’t fucking pretty,” I was angry at Emmett, I couldn’t help it. He was smarter than this.

Emmett stood up and went to the door, “Brian, I think you need to go. I won’t have you talking about Calvin like that. I can’t believe you’d invade his privacy. I’m sure if he felt it was something that could put me in danger, Calvin would have told me about it.”

Emmett opened the door and gestured for me to leave, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a late client meeting tonight. I have to get ready.” His voice was cold and I shook my head, my self control snapping.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re so besotted that you won’t even consider that what I’m suggesting is true?” I asked.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Kinney, I prefer to live my life giving people the benefit of the doubt. I prefer to trust people.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to face reality, I’ll leave you to your shiny happy lesbo bath time,” I said and was half way down the hall before stopped dead. Emmett had started to close the door when I felt my chest tighten. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Emmett!” I called, not turning around. He paused and I heard something in his voice, that note of sadness that he usually covers so flawlessly behind the façade of his fabulousness.

“What, Brian?”

“Just…be careful, okay?” I said just loud enough for him to hear.

He was quiet for a moment and I thought he’d shut the door. But then I heard his reply. “I’ll be careful, Brian,” he said and quietly clicked the door into place.

Emmett’s POV
Emmett’s Apartment, Pittsburgh, PA
Sunday April 9, 2006 9:45 PM

I closed the door and looked at the clock. I was already going to be late for my appointment and I still had to get dressed. Sighing I went into the bedroom and looked around, wondering why the hell Brian had felt the need to ransack my closet looking for me. There were clothes, books and photo albums all over the place. I looked for something that could easily convert from client meeting into Night Out at Woody’s, I was meeting Teddy, Blake and Nathan after my meeting.

Shaking my head I tried to get ready, my meeting with Mr. Fischer was in fifteen minutes at the diner. I was used to late client meetings, people did have jobs after all and I aimed to please. So I made myself available when ever it suited the client.

Mr. Fischer was throwing a Birthday party for his best friend and had hired me to plan the party. I was very excited and didn’t want to keep the handsome man waiting. He had emailed me last week through my web site and we’d scheduled an initial consultation which went wonderfully. We were meeting that night to go over the menu and decorations.

Dressed and looking incredible, I grabbed my cell phone and portfolio then locked the door behind me. The cab I’d called was waiting out front. As we sped along the darkened streets I thought about Brian’s visit. I was angry with him for invading Calvin’s privacy. He had no right to do that without asking me. But…I couldn’t help but wonder about what he’d discovered and I was angry about that too. Calvin would have told me if I was in danger…wouldn’t he? If what Brian said was true, and Brian isn’t the type to lie, Calvin got that call two weeks ago. Shouldn’t he have said something? I’d told Brian the truth. I preferred to trust people and I trusted Calvin. I knew that he loved me. It had been a difficult road having a long distance relationship…especially for me. Hello! Liberty Avenue! They might as well have put up a sign that said “All You Can Eat Buffet. Guys Named Emmett Eat half Price!” I had no self control when it came to cock. But I’d managed to be faithful.

Despite Nathan’s nay saying and constant head shakes about my relationship with Calvin, he’d surprisingly become a good friend over the last couple months. He tried to keep his beautiful mouth shut about his opinion. But I knew what he thought. Teddy, bless his heart, was just glad to see me happy. And I was…mostly. Unfortunately, Nathan easily saw beyond my happy face and right into the “mostly”. It was annoying.

Nathan kind of reminded me of Brian with out the hard, prickly shell. He was smart and witty, sophisticated and cultured; but he was also warm and kind with a mischievous streak a mile wide. Much like Brian, he wasn’t afraid to say what was on his mind, but at the same time, had a knack for helping you see things for yourself. He was a true devils advocate

Calvin and I saw each other as much as we could, which wasn’t as much as I’d like. And I can’t say that I’d been happy about being stood up the few times he couldn’t get away. But Calvin had never given me the impression that he was hiding something.

I looked out the window and realized my stop was getting close so I gathered up my things and sighed, trying to put aside my anger. I had to concentrate on the meeting ahead of me. I’d discuss Brian’s little queen out with the boys and see what they had to say. I smiled, just imagining what Nathan would say.

I always had the cab drop me off down the street. I didn’t like clients to see that I didn’t have a car, it just didn’t look professional. I was saving for one but I hadn’t quite yet saved enough. Brian offered to let me use his car service once when he saw me walking to an appointment.

“You look ridiculous, Emmett,” he had said and handed me the card for the service. “Use this. I’m adding your name to the approved user list.” Brian was like that. He saw a need and he filled it. He didn’t want thanks and God forbid, he didn’t want praise. He just wanted you to do what he thought was right. But I’d never taken him up on it, always too proud to take from him. I did still have the card, though. I’d just been flattered that he cared enough to say something.

I handed the cabbie my fare and rushed down the street, passing the familiar shops and stores. Walking past Babylon I noticed that it didn’t look so muck like a burnt out shell anymore. Nathan said they had run into a few snafus – namely, Brian’s decision to add an exclusive VIP lounge in the vacant second floor storage area – and the opening had been pushed back again; but, that things were running smoothly now and they expected to have the Grand re-opening sometime in August. It seemed like forever since the bombing. But then it had taken awhile for Brian to decide what he was going to do.

“Emmett!” I heard my name from the alley behind Babylon. I stopped to peer into the darkness, thinking maybe it was Nathan. I knew he was working late that night and may have seen me passing by.

“Emmett, could you help me, please?” the voice pleaded and I recognized it then – deep, rich and smooth with just the slightest southern twang. It almost reminded me of…

“Mr. Fischer? Is that you? Are you all right?” I called.

I walked closer and saw him struggling, trying to pull a box from against the dumpster.

“I’m fine; I just heard something, behind this box. I think an animal is trapped,” he huffed.

“Oh! Well…let me help you!” I leaned my portfolio against the dumpster and went to help him, something in the back of my head…Brian’s voice…

I moved…just a little. Swung my head around and saw the 2x4 as it decended.

“Just…be careful…okay?”

It was the last thing I thought before the pain…before the blackness.


Brian’s POV
The Loft, Pittsburgh, PA
Sunday April 9, 2006 10:15 PM

I exploded into the loft, pissed off at Emmett, pissed off at the incompetent, so called PI Roger. I threw my bags into the bed room and scanned the refrigerator for something to drink.

“Fuck water,” I said, slamming the door and opting for something stronger.

Beam in one hand, cigarette in the other I slumped on the couch and stewed in my anger. Justin and I had had an incredible weekend. I’d been relaxed for the first time in months and it was all thrown out the fucking window.

And Emmett….fuck Emmett. This is the thanks I get for trying to keep his nelly bottom safe. Well fuck his nelly bottom and fuck him. I was done.

I sighed and finished my drink, savoring the burn as it went down my throat. I poured another drink and pulled out my cell phone.

“Hey,” Justin answered and I smiled.

“What are you wearing?” I asked.

He huffed a little laugh, “Just your come and the smile you left on my face,” he said softly.

My dick twitched as I thought about kissing him goodbye earlier. His hair had been a mess, his body languid, pleasured and stretched across the rumpled sheets. Covered in come, he kissed me with lips swollen from my kisses and I could have crawled right back into bed. And after the night I’d had, I wished that I’d never left.

Through the phone I heart the sharp click click click of a pant brush in water, “You’re painting,” I said, imagining how beautiful he must look – naked, painting, and smelling of me.

“You inspire me,” Justin said simply, softly. I felt the tension ease from my body, comforted by his voice, happy he was creating.

“Hmmm…is that artist code for “You make my dick hard?” I teased and he laughed. “Because if it is…you really inspire me. In fact…I’m so inspired right now…I could burst.” I said, rubbing my growing erection, feeling it swell beneath my palm.

“I would have thought I sent you home satisfied till at least tomorrow morning,” Justin’s voice was low and lusty. I heard him running water to wash his hands.

“I’ll take it when I can get it, Sunshine, in what ever way I can.”

“You’re just insatiable,” he whispered and I could hear the sheets rustle as he climbed into bed. I closed my eyes and imagined him there, naked, glowing in the moonlight.

“Tell me you’re not hard,” I whispered and heard a little gasp escape his lips.

“You know I’d be lying.”

I imagined his hand on his dick, stroking now. For a moment I contemplated moving to the bed but decided I didn’t feel like moving, so I kicked off my jeans and briefs, freeing my straining cock.

All I wanted to do was focus on Justin, his voice, his scent still lingering on my skin. Images of Emmett kept coming unbidden into my mind and my stomach was uneasy. I felt like something was wrong.

Justin’s POV
Justin’s Apartment, New York, NY
Sunday April 9, 2006 10:18 PM

I laid wrapped in his scent and the warmth of the one thousand count comfort he insisted upon. If I closed my eyes I could imagine him by my side but the strain in his voice told me something was wrong.

“Brian,” I whispered and he sighed. “Tell me what happened.”

He was silent a moment and I thought I’d pushed too hard. “Can’t keep anything from you long enough to get our rocks off, can I Sunshine?” His voice was light but laced with something more. I laughed and I heard him light up a cigarette.

“I got a call while I was in the air,” he said and told me the whole story, all the facts. But I heard what he didn’t say. He was hurt that Emmett turned him away, hurt that Emmett didn’t see that his meddling was for Emmett’s protection. Brian would never admit in a million years that he was hurt because despite how far he’d come, how much he had grown his so called family still saw him as the “asshole”.

“I’m hiring a new PI tomorrow,” he said with an edge to his voice and I knew that despite Emmett’s reaction, Brian would continue doing what he thought best for his family.

I smiled, “Good.”

Again, his silence…I gave him the time to process.

“You think I did the right thing?”

“I do. You did what you did out of love, Brian. Eventually Emmett will see that. And if he’s not willing to listen to you right now he still needs to be protected. We need to have that fucker found.”

“Speaking of protection,” Brian said, voice sounding a little lighter and I knew we were done discussing the situation. “We’re on the countdown now, August 1st, by my calculations.”

My dick was instantly hard; I knew exactly what he was talking about. I had it circled on my fucking calendar.

“We haven’t really talked much about it since…” but it was all I thought about, all I’ve thought about since that night, years ago when Brian said we couldn’t.

“But you’ve thought about it,” he said, calling me out.

“Yeah,” I admitted – my voice a little breathy. I wrapped my hand around my cock to ease the pressure.

“You’re hard just thinking about it,” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he said and I let out a little whimper. “Justin…tell me,”

“Stroking…slowly.”

“Stroking what? Say it, Justin.”

“Stroking my cock….slowly…squeezing the head…watching my pre-come bubble up from inside…watching it drip down my shaft,” I teased him, knowing he loved this just as much as I did. He’d deny it if he had to, say it was all for me. But I’ve heard him moan…heard him grunt and groan when he comes with my voice in his ear.

I heard his breathing speed up and knew he was stroking himself too.

“Brian,” I softly called his name and heard his breath hitch.

“I can’t wait to get inside you, Justin. Just you, your ass around me…so tight and hot…” he gasped and I picked up my pace, fisting my cock, eyes closed, the images he painted playing out against my mind’s eye.

“Your come,” I gasped as my fingers circled my rim and teased the spot beneath it, “I want it inside…hot and wet…dripping from me...down the insides my thighs. Would you taste me, Brian? Would you eat my ass?”

“Justin,” he gasped, “eat your ass…tongue fuck you until you begged for my cock…fuck you again…hard and fast against the wall using my come as lube.”

I moaned and through lust hooded eyes watched my cock swell with need as I stroked it, shaft slick with the lube I wished was his come.

“Brian…please,” I asked. He loved when I begged…loved to come with me.

“Come with me, Justin,” he demanded and I shot hard, up my chest and over my hand. Moaning his name, loving my name in his mouth, wishing it was my tongue. His grunts and groans subsided and my breathing slowed until I heard him laugh.

In the sleepy silence that followed I whispered, “I miss you.”

“You have no idea,” was his soft response before I heard him light a cigarette.

I was about to ask a question when his phone beeped a call waiting.

“Fuck, who the hell is that,” he said, "Hang on a second, its Nathan,” Brian flipped over to Nathan and I waited, my limbs pleasantly weighted, dozing. A couple moments later Brian clicked back over to me but didn’t say anything.

“Brian?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“It’s Emmett,” Brian’s voice was raw, angry.

”What happened?” My stomach dropped.

“Nathan found him…he’s...pretty bad. They’re at the hospital. I…have to go.”

“Go…I’ll pack a bag and be there in two hours, tops,” I said, already packing.

Brian paused a moment. Here was the argument, the “you can’t do anything here anyway, Justin…just stay there…I’ll call you,” argument. But it never came. This time instead, he paused and said, “Charge it to me…and be careful,” before hanging up.