Chapter Eighteen #3
They sat on stools around the island, and Brian did indeed like the kare-kare, as well as the chicken adobo and sinigang. Troy’s mother asked a million questions about Brian’s childhood, and when Troy tried to intervene, Brian insisted he was happy to answer.
Troy waited nervously for her to ask about flying, but she didn’t. She didn’t ask about the band either, and when she announced she had errands to run, he kissed her cheek and told her again that he loved her.
“So.” Brian looked around after she’d gone. “What do we do now?”
“Anything we want. Everything we want.”
A sly smile tugged on Brian’s lips, and he unzipped his shorts. “I’m pretty tired. Ready to go back to bed.”
Troy yawned widely. “Yup. Better get back upstairs.”
They practically ran.
Soon, they were naked in Troy’s bed, the sun through the closed doors warm and perfect, cool air coming through the vents.
Troy knelt between Brian’s legs, pressing his thighs apart and sucking his big, heavy balls, nosing at the thatch of coarse hair.
With slick fingers, he inched in one, then two.
Panting and splayed wonderfully, Brian groaned. “Jesus, that feels…”
Hesitating, Troy asked, “Is it good? Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare stop.” He gasped. “Oh God. Right there.”
Troy didn’t stop.
With Brian’s long legs hooked over his shoulders, Troy pushed into him. It was so incredibly tight, and he kissed Brian deeply. He knew how it felt to have Brian’s cock inside him, and that Brian was feeling the same thing now made Troy inexplicably elated.
He could hardly keep the smile from his face. Sweat beaded at his brow and prickled the back of his neck. “That’s it, Bri. Let me in.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Brian bore down on Troy’s cock, and they moaned in unison. “Never knew it could be like this,” Brian murmured. “Hurts, but don’t stop.”
“You’re going to come so hard.” Troy wrapped his slick hand around Brian’s shaft. “Do you want that?”
Opening his eyes, Brian nodded jerkily. “I want to come. Please.”
Troy stroked faster, trying to find Brian’s sweet spot as he fucked him. They grunted, skin slapping and the headboard creaking against the wall.
Troy muttered, “Going to come for me all over that hairy chest?”
“Yes, yes,” Brian panted, clutching at Troy’s back and shoulders. “Please.”
“Do it. Come for me and I’ll lick it up.”
Gasping, Brian unraveled, jizz spurting over his chest and belly. Troy milked him, getting every drop. Brian’s ass was a vise around Troy’s dick, and it only took a few short thrusts before Troy filled his hole with a primal sense of belonging.
The echo of their cries faded to labored breaths, and Troy eased out of Brian gently. He lowered Brian’s legs, but stayed between them.
Bending his head, he ran his tongue over Brian’s chest, lapping up the bitter, musky semen before it dried.
The hair was rough on his tongue, and he loved it.
Scooting back, he licked a trail down Brian’s belly, making him shiver and tremble.
Troy gently sucked at the head of Brian’s cock until Brian tightened his fingers in Troy’s hair. “Okay, okay.”
Troy stretched out beside him, both of them on their backs. With sunlight dancing over their sweaty bodies, Troy was sated in every way possible, except for being rather thirsty. But he couldn’t move just yet. “I guess there’s one thing we definitely need to do today.”
“What’s that?” Brian asked lazily, his eyes drifting shut.
“Change these sheets.”
Brian laughed, that low rumble that made Troy’s toes curl. He rolled over and snuggled up to Brian’s side. The water and sheets could wait. Everything could wait.
After a dinner that night of ice cream and more freshly delivered pizza, they went for a walk by the water’s edge.
One of his neighbors jogged by, and Troy gave him a little wave.
The man—a Hollywood lawyer—nodded without breaking stride.
That was the great thing about living in a gated community in Malibu.
The other residents were so rich and often famous themselves that they didn’t give a crap about some boy bander and who he was dating.
He and Brian stood on the wet sand as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, a wave rushing around their ankles before retreating.
“It’s surreal sometimes,” Brian said.
“Hmm?”
“Being here. Being rescued even though this is the same sun going beyond the same ocean.” Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply.
“I can almost imagine we’re back there. Except this time my belly’s full with real food and we get to sleep in a bed.
No bugs. No parrots.” He looked at the orangey-red horizon. “But we still get sunsets.”
“Best of both worlds.”
Brian smiled. “Lucky us.”
“Hey, you know what else I miss? Let’s make a fire. We were going to do a bonfire party last winter but it never happened. The wood’s still piled up in the shed with the paddle boats and stuff.”
So they dug a little pit and made a fire, no need for a magnifying glass or to worry about conserving precious matches. Troy brought down a blanket and a couple of beers in little cozies that stayed in the freezer. He handed one to Brian. “Ice cold beer?”
Brian took it with a grin. “How did you know?”
“Oh, you might have mentioned it a few hundred times. Here, hold mine too.” He spread out the blanket and they settled down under the stars, gazing at the Big Dipper this time. Troy sat cross-legged and sipped his beer, his knee brushing Brian’s.
“This is still surreal. For the record.” Brian drank from his bottle. “Guess it will be for a while yet. Keep wanting to pinch myself. Hard to believe I’m really here. With you.”
“You are.” Troy leaned over and kissed him softly. “You’re really here.”
After a minute of content silence, Troy asked, “Have you thought about what you’ll do? For work, I mean. Not that you have to work. I have money.”
Brian raised an eyebrow. “Are you proposing I be a kept man?”
Laughing, Troy took another sip. “Sure. Works for me.”
“It’s a tempting offer.” His smile faded. “But yes, I’ve thought about it. I…” He sighed.
“You don’t have to talk about it now. I’m sorry. We have time. Don’t need to rush anything. Don’t need all the answers this minute.”
“I know. But I think I already have the answer.” Brian stared into the fire with a wistful smile. “I loved flying. But after Wisconsin… After Paula…” He went silent.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Troy said quietly.
“I know.” Brian looked at him. “I’m not just saying that.
I know I couldn’t have done anything differently.
” He picked up a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers.
“I can forgive myself, but I still can’t forget.
That joy is gone. I know I can do it. Could probably captain flights again now without panic attacks.
But I don’t want to. I don’t think I’ll ever get back the love I had for it.
” He snorted. “Maybe I just need to get over myself.”
“No!” Troy shifted closer, slipping his arm around Brian’s back. “You need to do something you love. Something that gives you joy. I really believe that. We both need to find out what makes us happy.”
Brian rested his hand on Troy’s knee, warm and heavy. “Being your kept man fits the bill.”
Troy laughed softly. “The offer stands.”
“What about you? The band?”
“I guess I’ll have to deal with the consequences of quitting the tour.
We were at the end of our contract and in the middle of renegotiations, and I can’t see myself doing another album.
I was nineteen when we started. After seven years it’s time for me to move on.
” He exhaled, his stomach fluttering. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.
And you know what else? I’m buying a guitar.
Working on my folk songs. See what comes of it.
Stop worrying about the past and be in the now. ”
“I love that idea.”
“Yeah?”
Brian threw a piece of wood onto their little fire, sending a cascade of sparks into the air. “Yeah.”
“I’m used to having a solid, detailed plan. My dad was very big on that.”
“My grandparents too.” He smiled fondly. “Big planners. But right now, I just want to be with you. Reconnect with some old friends. Go to therapy and actually talk this time.”
“That’s a good idea. We could both use some mainland therapy.”
Brian smiled softly. Peeling at the label on his beer, he said, “When we crashed, I started living again. Before then, I was sleepwalking. You woke me up, Troy. I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
“Me either.”
Troy watched Brian take a long pull from his bottle of beer, his throat working.
Desire coiled in Troy’s belly, a lazy tendril he knew would spread and grow as the night wore on.
He smiled to himself, thinking of how he’d get to spend another night with Brian in his bed.
And the next night, and the one after that, for as long as they wanted.
“Sing me our song.”
Troy didn’t have to ask which one. “It’s sad, though. Don’t you think?”
“Not when you sing it. There’s so much hope in your voice.” Brian took Troy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “It’s perfect.”
So Troy sang, and when Brian kissed him with such passion, Troy decided it was perfect indeed.