Gift #10 -2 of 5

[mander3-swish.livejournal.com]

TO: urugwaj
FROM: predec2
TITLE: What Follows Next


Evening – Brian’s Master Bedroom

I couldn’t help smiling down in amusement toward the foot of my bed as I heard soft snoring coming from Mrs. Kinney. I realized how much the little scoundrel had managed to secure a place in my bedroom each night now. How things had changed since that first day! I wasn’t about to tell Claire, though, how much the pooch had wormed her way into my heart already, and how I actually enjoyed having her company in bed. I smiled at her fondly. She certainly seemed quite comfortable lying on my expensive duvet.

Turning back to what I was doing, I picked up the remote for my TV and pressed the ‘on’ button, intending to watch a few minutes of the news headlines before I went to sleep. My companion continued to snore blissfully unaware at my feet as I surfed the channels before pausing on one in particular. What in the hell am I doing? I couldn’t help thinking, as my thumb hovered over the ‘pay’ button. I stared at the title on the screen for what must have been a full thirty seconds before muttering, "Fuck it," pressing the red ‘authorize’ button and scooting back farther against the bed’s headboard as I waited for the movie to begin. "Movie" was being too generous, I discovered after a couple of minutes. There was no plot whatsoever with this film parodying the REAL Officer and a Gentleman. Some hokey, trumpet-laced porno music was playing in the background as the opened in a recruitment center in some nondescript strip mall where an innocent-looking, young blond man walked in to inquire about signing up for the Army. A few minutes later, I figured out how apt a description ‘strip mall’ was, as I observed the uniformed recruiter push the would-be ensign over the front of his desk, yank his pants down to pool at his feet, and then quickly use his other hand to pull his own pants down to his thighs. Within seconds, a tube of lubricant had miraculously appeared, along with a condom, and he was ramming his hard cock into the other man, rocking his hips as he thrust in and out of him while the young blond moaned and held on for dear life, clutching the corners of the desk as flyers scattered everywhere.

My eyes grew wide as saucers, along with another part of my anatomy. What the fuck? My breath caught in my throat as I watched the screen intently before hurriedly pressing the ‘off’ button on my remote. I sat there, panting, wondering what was going on. Because to my astonished surprise, not only was my heart racing faster than a Mach 1 fighter jet in my chest, but my cock was hard as steel and throbbing painfully inside my sleep pants. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the vision I had just seen in my head while I watched the film – but it was no use; it only made it even MORE vivid. I was forced to admit that while the big, beefy recruiter was fucking his visitor to within an inch of his life, I was envisioning the same thing happening to ME…only it was with another blond that I knew. A MALE blond, not some vacuous-headed female. I opened my eyes back up to refocus, my chest heaving still, as I swallowed hard at the realization. The realization that I was attracted to the man I had become friends with at the park. The man I would be having dinner with tomorrow night. This can’t be happening, I thought. I refused steadfastly to psychoanalyze the reasons why as I carefully slid off the bed so as not to disturb my sleeping companion, heading toward the master bedroom shower to take care of my problem and wondering what in the hell I was going to do about tomorrow night.

Ten minutes later after a mind-numbing release in the shower as I thought once more of the beautiful companion I had befriended, I found that sleep would be a long time coming that night. And when it did – against my control – my dreams focused on one, particular man.


Same Evening – Justin’s apartment – Justin’s POV

Walking into my modest apartment, I greeted Reggie at the door and – as my usual custom – dropped my set of keys into a small, green bowl located on the hall table. "Hey, Boy!" I greeted the pug, scooping him up into my arms and giggling when he began to furiously lick my face. "Okay, okay! I’m glad to see you, too." Grinning, I gently placed Reggie back onto the floor as I looked down at my answering machine and noticed the message light blinking. I had meant to remove the landline totally, and just rely on my cellphone. God knows it would be less expensive not to have two phones, but to my dismay I found out that the reception inside my fourth-floor apartment was poor at best, so a landline was still a necessity. Leafing through the mail I retrieved from my jacket pocket, I hit the ‘play’ button.

"You have two messages."

The first one was from my mom; her obligatory, weekly ‘how are you doing?’ call. I shook my head in amusement before deleting it, knowing if I didn’t call her sometime today, she would likely go into a panic while her ‘baby boy’ was out in the big, bad world known as New York City, even though I had been here now for over a year. The next message made me stop in my tracks.

"Justin, it’s Derrick. Listen, I was wondering if we could get together sometime. I…I miss you. Call me, okay?"

I sighed, a little surprised to hear from my ex-boyfriend, but then again, not all THAT surprised. Derrick was a good man, a kind man, and had always treated me with respect. The biggest problem, though, was that after only a month of dating, he had not only asked me to move in with him, but he had professed his dying love for me. Despite not having led him on, that had caused me to admit to him that while I liked him and admired him, I did not love him; nor did I think over time – as he told me he hoped – I would fall in love with him, either. I just realized after several dates that, while he and I shared a good physical chemistry in bed, there was no spark, no flame when we were intimate. It was just…nice. He had sworn to me when we first had sex that he would NOT read more into it more than there was – two men satisfying their physical urges and seeking a mutually pleasant release. But Derrick had promptly admitted after only a few times that he was hopelessly in love with me. It was then that I had to break things off. It had been painful and awkward, but we had parted as friends. Now, however, it seemed he still couldn’t accept that that was all we would be. "Oh, Derrick," I murmured sadly as I headed toward my small living room. I was just about to plop down onto my couch when I heard a familiar knocking – only my best friend used the corny ‘shave and a haircut’ knock. I grinned. "It’s open!" I shouted as Reggie ran to the door to see who it was.

"Hey, Reg!" Daphne greeted him congenially, bending down to let the dog lick her on the cheek briefly as she rubbed him behind his ears. "Okay! Go get your ball!" Immediately Reggie ran off toward the last known location of his favorite tennis ball; he knew Daphne would play with him until one or the other of them was worn out from the effort. "Hey!" she greeted me with a grin as she stood in the hallway, waiting for Reggie to reappear. The sound of clacking toenails on my wooden floor signaled that his reappearance was imminent, as he rushed up to her and dropped the ball at her feet. Throwing it toward the kitchen again, she asked me, "Got any Moscato?"

"Fridge door," I told her as she nodded, coming back in about a minute later with two glasses. She set them down onto the coasters lying on my coffee table as she gave me a peck on the cheek.

"How did it go with the interviews?" Daphne had been searching for a personal assistant for the past week, but so far she had found fault with all of them. Not that she was picky, mind you…Even though Ms. Finicky must have interviewed at least 15 by now. She surprised me this time, however.

"I found him!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Last one I interviewed today. He’s perfect."

I arched my eyebrow. "So it’s a him?"

She nodded.

"Must be cute, then." I laughed as she smacked me on the arm, but I knew I had hit the mark when her face turned red.

"That had nothing to do with his qualifications," she insisted as I grinned.

"Oh, I’m sure it didn’t. But I still bet he’s cute…isn’t he?" I couldn’t help asking.

She grinned back at me. "Well…"

"I knew it! You are so transparent!"

"As if YOU wouldn’t be swayed by a hot body!" she argued as she shoved me playfully. Her expression grew more serious as she added softly, "You’re alone far too much now with Derrick out of the picture. You need to stop working so hard, and get laid to relieve some of your tension." She began to knead my shoulders as she added, "Your muscles are so tight. Damn, Justin!"

"Don’t take offense, Daph, but you’re not the person I would like to hear that from."

She stopped her ministrations to pull back and look at me. "Do you mean there IS someone? There’s finally life A.D?" Daphne hadn’t cared too much for Derrick while we had been dating, so anytime she referred to him now, it was only as A.D. – after Derrick.

My expression must have given me away, because her face broke out into a surprised but delighted smile as she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh, my God! Dish! Tell me all about him! Where did you meet? What’s his name? What does he look like?"

"Slow down! It’s not like that," I hedged. Why had I even said what I had said? Was it because deep down I needed to talk to someone about Brian?

"What do you mean, ‘it’s not like that?’ Like what?" she pressed me. "It IS a guy, right? I mean, you haven’t turned into a switch hitter or something, have you? Because if you have, Justin Taylor, I am next in line."

I laughed. "Come on, Daphne! You know me better than that. And don’t look disappointed; didn’t you just get through telling me that the guy you hired was cute?"

"No, YOU said that. And don’t change the subject."

I sighed. I had brought it up; now I had to follow through. Her brown eyes bored into mine; I knew that look. She wouldn’t quite badgering me until I told her the whole story. The only problem was, I wasn’t sure what the story WAS…not really.

"Well? I’m waiting." She placed her wine glass down on my coffee table and crossed her arms as she looked at me expectantly.

"Okay, okay. Yes, he’s a guy. A very handsome guy, as a matter of fact." That fact hadn’t gone unnoticed by me; even if the guy was straight, that still didn’t mean I couldn’t do a little window shopping.

"Good! That’s a start. I would expect nothing less from you. I always told you that you could do better than…what's his name."

I gave her a long-suffering look. "Daphne…" I shook my head in exasperation. "Okay. I met this guy at the park about a week ago when I was walking Reggie. Turns out he was doing the same thing, and we happened to wind up at the same park bench. And while Reggie was getting acquainted with his dog…I was getting acquainted with the dog’s owner." I couldn’t help smiling at the memory.

Daphne folded her legs under her on the couch, which always signified that she was getting comfortable. That also meant that she had no intention of leaving anytime soon. "Go on," she urged me with a pointed look. "What’s he look like? What’s he do for a living? Where does he live? What’s his name? Does he have good taste in dogs?"

"You are an absolute freak," I kidded her with a laugh as she smiled back at me playfully. I let out a deep breath. "His name is Brian," I began, picturing him in my mind. "He has chestnut brown hair, hazel eyes, he’s tall, lean, but toned, and has this smoky type of voice…" My heart thumped just at the thought.

Daphne’s eyes sparkled with glee. "Ooh…I’m liking him already. Tell me more."

I shook my head in amusement. "He used to own an advertising agency in mid-town Manhattan…"

"What do you mean, ‘used to?’ He doesn’t anymore?"

I shook my head. I could almost hear the screech that was about to come when I told her the rest. "No. He sold his company and is retired now. He lives in a penthouse overlooking the park, and yes, he has very good taste in dogs. He owns a pedigreed white, French bulldog."

I winced and covered my eyes as, sure enough, Daphne let forth with a shriek as she tackled me on the couch. "Oh, my God! You hit the jackpot, Justin!" All of a sudden, though, she let go of me to stare back at me warily. "Wait a minute! He’s retired? How old IS this guy? Is this some old married guy trying to keep his sexuality a secret, and he’s hitting on a sweet, young thing to get his rocks off?"

"Daphne! Of course not! He’s not THAT old! In fact, he’s gorgeous." And he was; there was no denying it.

"How old, Justin?"

I squirmed under her scrutiny. "I think he just turned forty."

"Forty? FORTY? Justin! That's just this side of a nursing home!"

I couldn't help laughing over her melodrama. "No, Daphne, he’s amazing! It’s not that big a difference! We’ve done a lot of talking together, and he’s very intelligent and charming. He is so knowledgeable about current affairs, and he’s an amateur writer, so he's creative, too. When I’m with him, I don’t really notice the age difference." I paused before revealing to her, "I’ve asked him to come here for dinner tomorrow night."

Her eyes widened as her face broke out into a delighted smile. "You did?"

I nodded.

I watched as Daphne’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as I averted my eyes. Damn girl. She always knew how to get to the bottom of things, and I suspected this would be no different.

I didn’t have long to wait. "What aren’t you telling me, Justin? He sounds too good to be true."

"There is just one, tiny, little problem…"

Daphne pressed her lips together in exasperation. "Out with it!"

I laughed nervously at her. "Funny you would put it that way, because…he’s straight."

"What?! Are you out of your mind, Justin? You can’t make someone change their sexual orientation just by cooking them some linguini!"

"Well, I happen to make some damn good linguini, as you well know," I pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. But of course she wasn’t buying it. "Daphne…He TELLS me that he’s straight. But I get this vibe from him…and these looks he gives me when he doesn’t think I’m noticing. He told me that his sister keeps trying to match him up with all these snobby, rich, blueblood women, but he says so far she hasn’t found one that he’s interested in. I think it’s because he’s confused and he doesn’t know WHAT he wants."

She reached to grab her wine glass and took a sip as she studied me. "And you think you can help him figure out what he DOES want? Justin, he’s forty years old! Don’t you think he would know whether he was attracted to men or women by now? He’d have to be the oldest virgin in Manhattan otherwise! Maybe on the entire planet Earth."

I shrugged. "I know it sounds ridiculous, and I think he would deny it. But I swear, Daphne! There is something there between us. I can feel it…and I think HE can feel it, too. But…I’m afraid…"

Daphne’s voice softened as she asked me, "Afraid of what? Making the first move and being rejected?"

A lump formed in my throat as I nodded. "Yeah…I would never force him to do something he didn’t want to do…and I won’t. What if I’m wrong? What if I come onto him, what if I flirt with him, and he looks at me like I’ve lost my mind? Or worse yet, he thinks I’m some pervert or something, chasing after some rich sugar daddy? What if he recoils from me, and tells me that I’m totally wrong about him?"

"I guess that’s up to you," she told me quietly. "You’re attracted to him?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes," I whispered honestly. "I was attracted to him from the first day we met. And the more I get to know him, and the more I learn about him…the more fascinated I become." I groaned. "I don’t know what got into me! But the invitation to dinner just slipped out! And he said yes, Daph! That has to mean something, doesn’t it?"

"Maybe," she conceded. "You always did have a good sense of judging people…except for that simpering puppy dog you just got through dating."

"Daphne, there’s nothing wrong with Derrick," I defended him stiffly. "I just wasn’t in love with him."

"And being the true romantic that you are, you can’t have a lasting relationship with someone unless you love him; yeah, yeah, I know." She sighed as she looked over at me sympathetically, placing her hand on my wrist. "Just be careful, Justin. Don’t get too involved with him, and don’t get your hopes up. He told you that he’s straight. Don’t try to make him into something that he’s not."

"It’s just dinner," I insisted. But my words rang hollow even to myself. "That’s it."

"Uh, huh," she answered, definitely not sounding convinced. "Well, I expect a full report afterward, Mister." She rose to her feet after placing the wine glass back down, arching her back to stretch it. "God, I hate sitting down all day long, going over proofs! With this new hire, though, he can do a lot of that for me. He can examine the photos and pick out the best ones to use…while I study HIM."

I chuckled as I rose from my seat and stood next to her. I reached to give her a hug, holding her tight. "I don’t know what I would do without you," I murmured. "You keep me sane."

She pulled back to grin at me. "Don’t forget! I want to hear all about it! And if you don’t get back to me until later…then I’ll know you were right about him." She winked at me meaningfully.


My face quickly turned red. "Daphne! I told you! It’s just dinner!"

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that…" She was clearly not convinced. "Okay, whatever you say. I have to run!" She turned to go before hesitating to ask, "By the way, does this outfit make me look fat? You didn’t say anything about it when I came in."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, is that new?" I laughed as she punched me in the arm. "Come on, Daphne! You don’t have an ounce of fat on you, and you know it."

She huffed. "I didn’t ask you if I was fat; I asked if this made me LOOK fat."

I shook my head in amusement. "Get out," I told her as she grinned. "Go." I began to push her toward the door as she laughed at me.

"In a hurry, are you? Better check your condom supply before the big date tomorrow."

"Bye, Daphne!" I opened the door and practically pushed her out into the hallway, hearing her laughter through the door as I braced my back against the wall nearby and groaned. What in the hell was I doing? But it was too late now. One thing was certain, though; whatever happened, tomorrow night should turn out to be quite interesting.


Five p.m. – Justin’s apartment- Justin’s POV

I tore off the plastic wrapping from the flower bouquet I had bought at the street vendor’s a short while ago, and after filling up one of my vases I retrieved from under the sink, I placed them as artistically as possible in the container before setting them in the middle of my small dining table. The two candles I had placed next to it were ready to be lit, the dishes, cutlery, and stemware were lying in their etiquette-correct positions, and my linguini with clam sauce was warming in a pot on the stove. All I had left to do after getting dressed was prepare the salad, get the wine out of the refrigerator, and place the bread into the oven to bake.

I bit my lip as I looked around the room to make sure everything was the way I wanted it. My apartment was rather small by anyone’s standards, but it was comfortable and tastefully decorated with items I had found at various thrift shops around town. My artistic eye had served me well, I thought. It would never be highlighted in any Home & Garden magazine, but I had used the space as efficiently as I could, and it suited me. I wondered how my guest would feel about it, though; no doubt Brian could probably fit ten of my one-bedroom apartment inside his penthouse. Glancing up at the clock above my kitchen sink, I realized time was running out before Brian would arrive. The mere thought made my stomach clench with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. It’s just dinner, I kept telling myself. But deep down, I knew it was more than that, at least for me. Would it be for my guest as well?

I didn’t have time to ponder that much longer, however; I had to take a shower and get dressed. Stopping just long enough to turn the oven on to preheat, I hurried into the bathroom.


"So, what do you think, Reg? Do I look presentable?" I grinned as he let forth with a single bark as if he understood everything I was saying. Perhaps he did. "Well, it’ll have to do," I decided as I ran my brush through my hair one last time. I had elected to wear a pair of beige, linen pants, topped with a dark-blue, long-sleeved shirt. Actually, it was the fifth outfit I had tried on; nothing seem to satisfy me tonight. But I also knew I didn’t have any more time to debate it. In less than fifteen minutes, my dinner date should be arriving.

Dinner date. Even though I had reassured Daphne that tonight was going to be just a way to enjoy some good conversation and perhaps also impress Brian with my cooking skills, I knew deep down I was hoping it would be more. Just the thought of that man being in my apartment made my stomach do somersaults and my palms sweat. "Great," I muttered as I hurried into my modest bathroom and washed my hands before reaching for a cloth to dry them. "That would be real impressive." I sighed as Reggie came trotting over to me and stood in the doorway, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

"What am I doing, boy?" I asked him. "I hope I’m not making a huge, fucking mistake," I murmured, snorting at my choice of words, because that’s exactly what it might turn out to be. Shaking my head in disgust, I turned and headed out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen before I changed my mind one more time about my choice of clothing, and to make sure I didn’t manage to burn my dinner, too.


Forty-five minutes earlier – Brian’s penthouse – Brian’s POV

Fresh out of the shower and with a thick, blue towel tied loosely around my hips, I slid open my side closet where I kept my shirts and studied them. As usual, each one was hung precisely in the same way and at the same distance from each other, all of them crisply ironed by Debbie to my exact standards. The shirts were mainly of the same design and categorized by color, beginning with white and then moving gradually to light-colored shades and finally ending up with the black ones on the opposite side. In the other closet next to this one I had grouped my pants in much the same manner: hung uniformly together by category, color, and style. My shoes were carefully displayed in individual wooden niches in another closet, with my socks and underwear neatly folded in my two top dresser drawers.

Yes, everything was nice and neat and orderly. Everything, that is, except for the thoughts of indecision swirling around in my mind, and the queasiness I felt in my stomach. Was I getting sick? I had felt fine up until about thirty minutes ago – about the time I had headed into the master bathroom to take my shower. Also about the same time I had started thinking about my imminent dinner with my park bench companion. Snap out of it, Kinney, I chided myself. It’s just a fucking dinner. God knows I had been to plenty of dinners in my lifetime, and for various reasons. To my surprise, however, I realized that – except for occasional dinners with Claire and her son – I had never really had dinner with someone merely for pleasure and not for business. What did that say about me? "Maybe it says I’m boring…and people are only after one thing from me; no, make that two things: either money or my name." I glanced down in the door’s mirrored panel, noticing Mrs. Kinney staring back at me with her dark, luminous eyes. I smiled as I turned and stooped down to scoop her up into my arms. "Is that what you think, too, Mrs. Kinney? At least I know YOUR motives are sincere…as long as I keep you well-supplied with doggie treats and your favorite toys." I laughed as she promptly licked me in the mouth before I had a chance to react. "Stop that," I told her, holding her out from my body just enough to avoid the next lick. "I have to get dressed, and I don’t want dog slobber all over my good shirt." I gently placed her back down, watching her scamper off, no doubt toward one of her toys, since I had just mentioned them. She was a smart little pooch, I couldn’t help thinking with a grin as I turned my attention back to my closet.

Ten minutes later, I stood in front of the dresser mirror, studying my neat-as-a-pin look. It was my typical style; even when it wasn’t business – even when I walked Mrs. Kinney – everything was in place with not a button undone, shirt tails neatly tucked into my pants with my standard leather belt, my shoes perfectly polished, and not a hair out of place. It had been that way for years, ever since I could remember. So as I stood there, why did I feel like some straight-laced bureaucrat, heading off to a high-priced meeting on Wall Street? Justin never dressed to impress me, even though he always looked very neat and clean. He was definitely not a label queen with any stretch of the imagination, I thought, but perhaps that was due to our differences in income. Something told me, though, that even if he had a great deal of wealth, he would still dress the same. Standing there for a few moments, I impulsively reached to unbutton the top two buttons of my black shirt, exposing just a bit of my toned skin underneath. I felt strangely vulnerable this way, but kind of liberating, too. Taking a deep breath, I snatched up my keys lying on the dresser and headed down the hall.

"Now you behave while I’m gone," I told Mrs. Kinney, finding her sitting in her monogrammed dog bed, a rawhide stick propped up between her front paws as she gnawed away. Smiling, I walked over to stroke her head. "I’ll be home later," I assured her as I turned a nearby light on. Picking up the remote to the wired stereo system, I turned on a classical music station on low to help keep her company before quietly walking over to my front door, grabbing the chilled bottle of wine I had promised, and heading outside at precisely 6:55 p.m., having already calculated online how long it would take for the driver to take me over to Justin’s apartment and arrive there by 7:05 p.m.

Twelve minutes later – after the driver threaded through some extremely thick traffic, even for Manhattan – I emerged from the back of the Lexus, the butterflies still skittering around furiously in my stomach as I wished I could have a couple drinks from the bottle of wine I was tightly gripping. Steeling myself, I walked confidently up to the door of the rather nondescript, five-story building, noticing no one outside to let me in. Well, what did I expect? After all, this obviously wasn’t some luxury structure. It was one of the myriad of brownstones that fed off from the main drag around Central Park. I had to admit, though, that the shady street and neat-looking buildings were charming in a way.

Opening up the door, I searched for Justin’s name, finding it on the fourth floor. Pressing the button, I breathed deeply in and out to try and relax, wondering why in the hell I was so nervous in the first place. It was just dinner…right? The crackling of the speaker pulled me back to the present as I heard the subject of my thoughts speaking. "Brian?"

"No, it’s Donald Trump," I quipped with a grin, hearing him snort on the other end.

"Well, then, by all means come on up. I could use a loan."

I chuckled. "I’ll be right there," I told him as I turned to head over to an old-fashioned elevator; the kind where you had to push the metal screen upward in order to enter. Wondering about the safety of such a contraption, nevertheless I stepped inside, closed the door, and said a prayer that I wouldn't wind up flatter than a pancake as I pushed the button for the third floor.


A couple of minutes later – to my great relief – I arrived on the correct floor. Repeating the same procedure in reverse this time, I looked right and left, trying to find the correct apartment number. I could only see three doors on this floor, so it wasn’t hard to spot Justin’s apartment at the far end. Taking another deep breath, I glanced quickly at the decorative mirror hanging opposite the elevator – satisfied that I still looked quite neat – as I walked down the short hallway toward his door, the old, wooden floor creaking under my weight. "Haven’t they heard of nails around here?" I muttered as I reached his door. Holding onto the wine bottle with one hand, I held my other hand up and rapped on the door three times, my heart beginning to beat fast like a hummingbird’s wings. What was wrong with me??

I didn’t have any more time to think about it as I heard footsteps approaching, and then what sounded like a deadbolt and chain being slid back before the door opened and I came face to face with my park bench companion. He smiled at me – a little nervously, I thought, but I wasn’t sure – as I smiled back at him, my eyes almost involuntarily traveling down his body to admire his casual outfit. He was wearing a light brown pair of pants and a dark-blue shirt that seemed custom-fitted to him and made his blue eyes sparkle. "Hey," I greeted him, wondering why this man was affecting me so much. I had never had this type of reaction to a woman before.

"Hey," he replied in kind. "Come on in," he invited me as I nodded and walked inside as Reggie came bounding up to me excitedly. I couldn’t help laughing as he began to snort furiously as he jumped up and down on his feet and made circles in front of me.

"Reggie, enough, boy!" Justin gently chided him, stooping down to pick up the stocky canine. "Sorry," he apologized. "I think he was hoping you had brought his playmate with him. You could have, you know. What’s one more dog? You’ll have to do that next time. I’ll go put him in the spare bedroom for now; I’m embarrassed to say it’s more like HIS bedroom, with all his toys in there. I’ll be right back." I watched him walking away and found myself unable to take my eyes off the round ass that was so firmly encased in the pants he wore. My God. Where did THAT come from? I wondered, squeezing my eyes shut in confusion before opening them back up. He had said next time. That part did not go unnoticed by me. Did he think this was going to be the start of some long-term type of relationship? Perhaps it already was, I considered. After all, we pretty much had a standing date to meet at the park bench each morning, although he had missed that one day. I had to admit that I had missed seeing HIM that day.

I looked up as he returned to my side and I held out the wine bottle to him. "Thanks," he told me. "Come and sit down; I almost have dinner ready. I hope you like linguini."

I nodded. "Sure do. Anything I can help you with?"

He seemed to consider for a moment before he replied, "You could pour the wine. The glasses are above the stove."

I nodded, following him down the short hallway until we came to an opening to our right, where a small combination kitchen/dining room area was situated. I took a glance around the room, impressed with how he had designed a fairly chic-looking spot from such a small area. "This is nice," I told him.

He beamed at me, catching me off guard with the intensity of his smile. I had seen him smile before at the park, but never to this degree, and it made my heart pound. "Thanks! I don’t have a lot of extra cash at the end of the month, so I can't use it for frivolous things. Somehow my heat and electricity seem more important," he told me, laughing softly. "But when I first moved here, I almost lived 24/7 at all the local thrift shops, and that’s where I found most of these furnishings. I got most of them cheap, and then either sanded and repainted them, or repaired them. I like the older things, anyway; I think they were made a lot better back then."

I nodded. "Well, whatever you did, I think you’ve definitely made the most of your space. It looks great," I told him sincerely, earning another smile.

"Thanks. Uhh…the glasses are over there," he reminded me as I nodded, walking over to retrieve two stemmed wine glasses from the cabinet. Pouring two glasses full, I placed the wine bottle down on the table and walked the few steps over to him to hand one of them to him. As our fingers grazed each other’s just like the other day, I felt the same rush of electricity flow through me, my eyes widening slightly in surprise. Turning my eyes away slightly, I hurriedly took a large drink from my glass as I observed Justin do the same, unable to avoid watching as his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. Blinking as I realized I was practically ogling him, I asked, "Is there anything else I can do?"

He considered that for a moment before replying, "Do you have a lighter?"

I shook my head. "Sorry…gave up smoking about the same time I retired. I decided I’d rather take my chances dying in New York traffic than from lung cancer."

He chuckled. "Well, I think I might have some matches in my junk drawer over by the fridge," he told me. "Can you look and see if you can find some to light the candles for me?"

I nodded, soon locating a pack of matches with a nearby deli’s name on it and taking a few moments to light each of the candles. Making a snap decision, I reached to turn the dimmer switch down located on the wall, casting the room in a warmer glow. I looked over to see Justin’s blond hair gleaming in the candlelight, and his eyes boring into mine. "I hope that’s okay," I told him.

He smiled and nodded. "Of course," he assured me. "I like it better this way." He took a couple of plates down from the cabinet over the stove and dished out some of the linguine onto the plates. "I hope you like shrimp," he asked. "If you wouldn’t mind grabbing the salad and the two dressing bottles, I think we’re all set now."

I nodded, walking closer to him to fetch the salad and dressing and follow him over to the table.

"Please…sit down," he urged me as he placed one of the dishes in front of me, along with some warm bread he had retrieved from the oven that was nestled inside a cloth-covered basket.

"Hmm…it smells wonderful," I told him as he smiled at me.

"Thanks," he murmured as he sat down next to me. He bobbed his head. "Go ahead and try it," he encouraged me as I took a stab of the shrimp and pasta and placed it in my mouth. My eyes widened in pleasure.

"Wow, this is fucking good, Justin," I told him, impressed.

He smiled at me. "I’m glad you like it."

I took another sip of my wine, and then broke off some of the warm bread, the two of us eating in companionable silences as we stole glances at each other. Finally, I placed my fork down. "So…tell me more about yourself."

Justin laughed; it was like that musical sounding laugh from before, and I found myself fascinated. "What would you like to know?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you want to tell me."

He nodded as he took another sip of his wine, my eyes unable to take themselves off his lips as they wrapped themselves around the rim of the glass. Putting his glass down, he replied, "Okay, but only on one condition."

"What’s that?"

"For everything I tell you about myself, you have to do the same."

I laughed. "Deal. You first."


Four Hours Later…Justin’s POV

After eating and placing the dishes in the dishwasher, the two of us had wound up sitting on my couch, drinking another glass of wine while my stereo played some sort of lazy music in the background. I had long ago forgotten how many I had had, and I suspected Brian didn’t know, either, and the candles had long ago burned out. But between the wine we had drunk, and the shrimp linguine in wine sauce that I had cooked – I was feeling a warm buzz all over, and it had loosened me up tremendously. I no longer felt nervous around Brian at all, and was enjoying our time together tremendously. Brian, too, seemed much more at ease now as he relegated me with stories about the pranks he had pulled in his private school in Westchester County. We sat on both ends of the couch. We weren’t touching…but even so, I could almost feel his body heat from where I was perched, my wine glass held in my hand as I balanced it on my knee.

"Tell me you didn’t!" I exclaimed as he told me about the various unique uses he had found for super glue during his high school years.

He smiled smugly. "I did," he confirmed. "And then some. That shit is strong stuff!"

I laughed. "Oh, I wish I had gone to school with you," I told him. "It would have been quite ‘educational.’" He chuckled at me. I noticed the bottle of wine had just a small amount left. "More wine?" I asked him softly as he held up his hand and shook his head.

"Fuck, no," he told me. "I’ve had enough."

I nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. I had had a marvelous evening with Brian. He was charming, funny, intelligent…and gorgeous eye candy to ogle; he was definitely the stuff that fantasies were made of, and I knew without a doubt that he would be the star attraction in my dreams tonight. But I also knew he was woefully inexperienced when it came to being with another man…if that was even what he wanted. I was still sure he was attracted to me; I had seen enough men and the way they looked at me not to be certain of that. But did Brian realize that? And, more importantly, did he want to do anything about it? I did not want to spook him. As much as I knew it would kill me, I would let HIM make the first move. I just prayed that he would.

"Well…"

"Uhh…"

We both laughed as we talked at once. "You first," I told him softly as he nodded.

I watched as he drank the last of his wine and placed the glass down on the coffee table before – to my dismay – he rose to his feet. "I have enjoyed this evening immensely," he told me. "But it’s getting really late. I’d better get going." I thought I could hear regret in his voice.

I swallowed my disappointment as I nodded, standing up to face him. "Thank you for the wine…and the company. I had a great time." I paused. "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

He nodded at me with a smile. "Yeah…that would be nice."

I nodded back at him as he turned to go, following him over to the door. Reggie had long ago retired to his favorite dog bed over in the corner, and continued to snore away, oblivious to everything else as we reached the door. This would be the typical ‘goodnight kiss’ stage if I had had any other man here for dinner on a first date; I was the kind to get to know a guy first before proceeding any further. But I knew this time I wouldn’t even get that. I couldn’t chance it; not if I had any hope of Brian realizing his feelings for me and acting upon them without scaring him away. As confident and successful as the man was, he seemed more like a skittish deer than anything as he reached for the door handle and opened the door. He turned around one last time to face me.

"I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the park?"

I nodded, forcing a half-smile on my face. "Sure. See you then." I held the door open as he walked outside into the hallway, and with a final wave at me, I slowly closed the door, leaning against the smooth surface and letting out a huge sigh. "Damn…What the hell am I doing? Way to go," I berated myself. "You had to go and fall for a closet queer."

Shaking my head, I pushed myself off the door and locked it behind me…only to practically jump out of my skin when I heard someone knocking. Frowning – and refusing to allow any hope to enter my heart – I slowly slid the security lock back and turned the deadbolt to open the door. My heart began to beat impossibly fast as I encountered Brian standing there. I frowned. "Brian? Did you forget something?" He shook his head at me.

"Not exactly…but there is something I wanted to do…but I was too fucking scared to do it."

My eyes widened as he walked inside and kicked the door shut behind him; as he grasped my upper arms and leaned in closer, I still refused to believe what his intentions were…despite every fiber of my being begging for it. "What?" I whispered breathlessly, our mouths inches from each other.

"This," he replied huskily, his eyes drifting downward before his lips tentatively touched mine. It was just a whisper at first, a brush of our mouths together, before he pulled back to stare into my eyes. "I don’t know what the hell I’m doing," he admitted with a nervous sort of laugh. "I’ve…I’ve been with plenty of women. More than I can count," he told me, making me feel jealous in a weird sort of way. "But I’ve never, you know…"

I nodded, relishing the feel of his long fingers curled around my upper arms, holding me in place. Not that I had any intention of going anywhere; just that brief, small kiss has made me feel all sorts of crazy things; illogically wild things. "I’m attracted to you," I told him, needing to be honest. "But we won’t do anything you’re not comfortable doing."

He nodded at me as he leaned in to kiss me again; but this time he pressed our lips together more confidently as I sighed into the kiss, angling my head to deepen it slightly as my hand slid up to grip the back of his neck and hold his head more firmly in place. Before I realized what I was doing, I slid my tongue out just enough to swipe it across his lower lip; I was alarmed that he might become frightened of what I was doing, but then I heard him groan in reaction before he opened his mouth in silent invitation. I couldn’t resist as I slid my tongue inside, tasting him for the first time. It was a heady feeling as our kiss continued, and I felt encouraged as he slid his arms around my back to press me closer.

With great reluctance, I finally broke our kiss off, afraid of going too far, as I rested my hands lightly on top of his shoulders. His face was flushed and his eyes were darker than normal as he stared at me, his breath coming out in soft pants.

"That was…"

I held my breath, waiting for him to tell me, to move at his own pace. His hands were still around my back, and our lower bodies were lightly touching; it was enough, however, for my cock to harden…and to my astonishment as well as delight, I could feel his pressing against my body, clearly indicating his desire for me. "What?" I couldn’t help asking him, licking my lips nervously. I thought I saw his eyes darken even further as he slowly lifted them to peer into my own.

He took a deep breath and let it out. "…amazing," he finally replied. "Wow."

I smiled at him, pleased. It wasn’t the most passionate of kisses by far, but it was a start. And just feeling his lips on mine for that relatively brief time was enough for me to know that I wanted more; MUCH more. But the question was…did he? I soon found out as he dropped his hold on me…only to reach for my hand and slowly begin to lead me down the hallway, bypassing the kitchen as he headed toward the end of the hall – straight toward my bedroom. My heart thumped erratically as I pulled on him to stop. He turned to face me questioningly.

"Brian…are you sure?" I whispered, desperately wanting him to say yes, but knowing I would abide by whatever pace he was comfortable with, even if it meant that the kiss we had just shared was all we were going to experience tonight.

But to my delight, he nodded his head, his hand warm in mine as he continued to hold it. "I’m sure," he whispered as he pulled me to him until our bodies were pressed closely together; I noticed that despite our difference in height, somehow we fit together perfectly. "I want you, Justin."

I swallowed hard as I nodded back at him, pecking him softly on the lips before the two of us walked into my modest bedroom. I silently thanked Daphne for insisting I indulge just enough to get a queen-sized bed, rather than a twin one, even though it practically took up the entire bedroom. I decided to profusely express my gratitude the next time I saw her, but right now she was the last thing on my mind as Brian and I halted by the side of my bed. I leaned down just enough to turn my bedside light on, the one that emitted a soft glow without being garish, as I nodded slightly at him as if to tell him the next step was up to him. He licked his lips nervously before he dropped my hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, my heart racing as more and more of his flat, taut, bronze skin was exposed to my greedy view. I longed to reach out and help him undress like some much-desired Christmas and birthday package wrapped up in one, but I sensed he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Unbuttoning his sleeves, he slid the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor, finally exposing his lightly-muscled chest for my inspection.

God, he was gorgeous. Even more than I had dreamed of, and I had spent many a night imagining what his body looked like under all that high-priced, designer clothing. I itched to reach out now and unfasten his belt and unzip his pants, to feel what I just knew had to be a glorious cock hiding underneath. But again, I managed to restrain myself, even though my own cock was throbbing with anticipation. He appeared almost shy now as I watched his long fingers slowly pull on the belt to loosen it, hearing the buckle emit a clanging noise as it, too, hit the ground. Biting his lip, he toed off his shoes and pulled his socks off, and I couldn’t help thinking that even his feet were elegant. Now he was left only in his pants and briefs, and I could barely wait to see what other treasure was hiding from my view, but the pace was agony; pure torture.

Finally, the pants were undone, and I watched, entranced, as he curled his hands around the waistband and slowly began to slide the material down his long legs and stepped out of them, my breath catching in my throat as he was finally, totally exposed to my view. I gasped, making him lift his gaze to peer over at me, as I stood there still fully clothed but desperately wanting to shed my own pants and shirt, just to feel all that glorious skin on mine. And I had been right; his full, hard cock was magnificent; long, large, and smooth. The whole man was a fucking work of art. "Brian," I couldn’t help whispering as his face flushed in reaction to my intense stare. "You…are you so beautiful."

His face turned red as he stared into my eyes. "No…you’re the beautiful one," he whispered with a smile. He raked his left hand through his hair, tousling it and making him even MORE sexy to me. "I…I feel…fuck, I don’t know what I feel," he admitted. "But I do know one thing."

I couldn’t help staring at him; all of him. "What?" I asked, holding my breath. I walked a little closer to him until we were almost touching. Fuck, I wanted to touch him so much. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of his body, and memorize it like a well-loved map.

"I…I want to see you," he told me, making my own face redden now over the husky tone of his velvet-sounding voice. Brian has such a gentle voice, a rich voice. And it made me even harder at the thought of how much he wanted to see ME now.

I nodded as I reached for my own shirt…only to have Brian reach out and grab my hands. "No," he explained almost shyly. "I want to do it." I nodded, dropping my hands to my side in acquiescence.

I noticed his hands shaking slightly as he reached over and began to unbutton my shirt, starting at the top and traveling downward, his fingers occasionally brushing against my bare skin and making my breath catch merely from his touch. As soon as he had finished unbuttoning my shirt, I hurriedly shrugged out of it, excited by the clear look of desire on his face as his hands lightly roamed down my chest. I gasped as the pads of his fingers brushed over my nipples. They always had been a particularly sensitive part of my body when I had sex, but I was astounded by how much his touch affected me. I noticed Brian’s eyes widening in shock over my reaction as I deftly slipped out of my shoes and leaned down just long enough to pull my socks off. As I stood back up to face him, I found that I was the nervous one now. Would I live up to his own standards? After all, up until now he had only had women to compare against each other. How was he going to react when he saw all of me?

"Brian," I whispered impatiently. "Please…"

He nodded, seeming to know what I needed, before his fingers reached for the button and zipper of my pants. I silently thanked myself for choosing a pair of pants that didn’t need a belt as his fingers pulled open the fly of my pants before he slowly slid the zipper down, exposing my white briefs underneath. I could feel my cock growing harder as it struggled to spring out of its trap. It was all I could do not to pull my pants off myself in record time, but I somehow held back as, finally, Brian’s hands gripped my pants and briefs and began to slowly pull them down my legs. I heard him suck in a breath as my cock was finally exposed to his inspection as he dropped his hold on my clothes so I, too, could step out of them. At last we had no other barriers between us as we stared at each other’s bodies.

I saw Brian swallow hard before his hands reached out to begin their initial discovery. I closed my eyes, desire washing over me, as I felt his fingers lightly tracing my lips, then my jaw, traveling down both of my collar bones and then down my arms. I shivered and groaned, suddenly feeling the loss of his touch as I reopened my eyes. "Why did you stop?" I whispered. "Brian…God, touch me. Please touch me."

"Justin…"