I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission for AwesomeDude, or any other person or entity, to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.
Copyright 2004. All Rights Reserved.
"It's OK to fall in love with your best friend." – Davey Carlson.
PART ONE, The New Year
Chapter 3 — Grandma's House
Brandon sat up and rubbed his eyes. Daylight shone through the window. He checked the bedside clock. It was only 8:00 AM.
"Hey, Babe," Jake murmured from behind and rubbed Brandon's back. "Can't sleep?"
"No," Brandon said, getting up from the bed and walking to the window.
Even while Jake's brow furrowed in concern, he admired Brandon's naked silhouette in front of the sheer window curtains, and followed the outline of Brandon's muscles with his gaze. He noted the light glistening off Brandon's skin, and the way, even relaxing against the wall, Brandon looked male, athletic.
It had been after eleven the night before when they pulled into his Grandma's driveway, and though that was only nine California time, they were tired. By the time they ate supper, unloaded the car, and bathed, it was close to two in the morning, SA time. And even then, Brandon slept poorly; and because he did, Jake also slept poorly.
Brandon was worried about seeing Michael.
Climbing from bed, Jake came up behind Brandon, wrapped his arms around Brandon's waist and kissed the back of Brandon's shoulder. "Come back to bed, Foxy. It's still really early. It's only six in the morning California time. We can head over to Michael's later."
Brandon absently rubbed Jake's forearms and shook his head. "I just want to get it over with, you know?" he said, half to himself. "I mean, if there's even half a chance… I want to know."
Jake leaned his forehead against the back of Brandon's neck. He knew it wasn't really just about Michael. Not any more. Brandon's life was screwed up, and Jake suspected that for Brandon, Michael had become a dream, a hope, a memory of a better time. Jake couldn't compete with that. He wondered if even Michael could.
It surprised Brandon when Amy Sullivan answered the door at the Bentolli house. He knew she was going to have Michael's baby; but he didn't know she'd moved into his house. He introduced Jake and asked for Michael.
"He isn't here. Michael's been staying at Davey's house."
Just then, a baby cried from inside and Amy waved Jake and Brandon on in. In the living room was a crib, and as they took seats, Amy lifted the baby from the crib. She was slender again, though her breasts were still large with nursing. Amy had shoulder length brown curls and intelligent green eyes. She was pretty; pretty enough that two gay boys admired her.
She rocked Little David in her arms while she grabbed up a blanket, and then she sat down, throwing the blanket over her and the baby. Watching her movements, Brandon realized she was preparing to nurse.
"That's Michael's baby?" he asked.
"And mine," Amy replied, nonplussed.
"Oh, gawd!" Jake exclaimed softly. He looked from Brandon to Amy and back. "That boy sure gets around."
"Not any more," Amy said with a sigh. "You know they think they're married now; him and Davey?"
He thought he was prepared for anything, but Brandon's stomach knotted. "What do you mean?"
Amy shrugged and adjusted the baby under the blanket. "They're calling it promised to each other. Michael's convinced that it can work for guys to marry each other, and whatever Michael's convinced of, Davey's convinced of. So they've promised each other now that they won't ever have sex with anyone else for as long as they live; and they plan to get married."
Brandon was stunned. Jake's mouth dropped.
"Oh my gawd," Jake gasped. "They're crazy. I thought Michael was supposed to be some kind of genius."
Amy nodded at Jake. "Some genius, huh?"
Brandon shook his head. "Maybe not smart, but Bent's always been real… " He searched for a word.
"Noble-minded?" Amy offered.
"Idealistic," Brandon said.
"Don Quixote," Amy countered.
"Huh?" Brandon asked, not recognizing the reference.
Amy shook her head. "Unrealistically idealistic," she offered. "His ideals aren't attainable."
"Man, that's just weird," Jake said, shaking his head. "Is he like real religious or something?"
"No," Amy countered. "Just idealistic."
Brandon sat back, his eyes distant. "But that's why Bent is so different," he said softly. "He is noble-minded. If his standards were any lower, he wouldn't be Michael."
Amy nodded. "And maybe I wouldn't have fallen for him."
"Geez," Jake protested. "But no one can do that. I mean, married straights don't even do that."
"Some do," Amy said.
"If anyone can, Michael Bentolli can," Brandon said. "When he commits to something…"
"No guy with a dick that size can commit to not having sex, Honey," Jake protested.
Amy raised an inquiring eyebrow at Jake.
"He never did anything with Michael," Brandon quickly interjected.
Under the blanket, Amy shifted the baby to the other breast. "Well they didn't promise to not have sex, Jake," she corrected. "Davey and him are living together. My impression is they get all the sex they want. The last couple of days, they've been acting like love sick honeymooners."
Brandon's mind wandered. He wondered whether even Michael could pull it off.
Jake wondered if anyone ever got all the sex they wanted. He shook his head. "It's crazy."
"You don't know Michael." Brandon said, frowning.
"What about Davey?" Jake asked. "He may be slow, but he's still a guy, and a gorgeous one at that. Somebody's going to get into that boy's pants, sooner or later."
Brandon nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I wonder what'll happen then."
"Maybe," Amy said softly. "You don't know Davey."
Jake almost jumped from the porch when a uniformed police officer answered the door at Davey's house. "They're at the office," Tom Richardson told them, and gave them instructions on how to find it.
"Who was that?" Jake asked as they left.
Brandon shrugged. "I guess Davey's mom has a boyfriend."
Jake opened his car door. "And what office?"
Brandon smiled, apologetically, and climbed into the passenger seat. "Sorry, Jake," he said as Jake closed the driver's side door. "It's sorta a long story. You see, Michael and Davey have sold some software that they wrote – they've even got a company now."
Jake's brow furrowed. "Davey writes software, too? I thought Michael was the only smart one. I thought Davey was a little… slow."
Brandon nodded. "He is, for most things. But he's good with math and stuff like that. But look. It's sorta secret. They don't want their friends to know how rich they're getting."
"Geez. How rich are they getting?"
Brandon shrugged. "Pretty rich."
"And why don't they want their friends to know?"
Brandon smiled ruefully. "So they can be normal."
They found the office building, modern brick and glass, out by Loop 410 and the airport. After taking the elevator to the tenth floor, they knocked at a door that only had a number, and no posted name.
There was no answer so they knocked again. Jake saw a doorbell button and pushed it.
Finally, the handle turned and the door opened. A tall youth, dressed only in shorts and with wildly disheveled hair, stood drowsily before them. He wore a gold neck chain and a gold friendship bracelet that seemed incongruous with his unkempt appearance, but sexy on his half-naked body. The gold highlighted the gold tones of his skin color. The muscles in his slender body stood out in clear definition, even down to where the "V" of his abdomen muscles plunged into the waistband of his low-riding shorts.
But it was his face that Jake found remarkable. Atop a long, slender neck, Michael's face was almost a little small, almost a little young for his body, but only almost. His features were fine and even, with a clean brow and arching eyebrows over long eyelashes and high cheekbones. His lips were ruddy and looked soft. With his thick black hair, even disheveled, he had a rare and unique beauty. Jake had forgotten just how beautiful. But when Michael's dark eyes focused on them, Jake was stunned again.
Michael was stunned, too. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. "Bran!"
In an instant, his arms were around Brandon, and for a moment, for only a moment, Brandon relaxed and forgot his misgivings, forgot the things Amy had told them, and simply held the slender body of the only boy he'd ever fallen in love with. He held him close and held him tightly.
But the moment passed and Michael pushed back; still smiling, but holding back some of himself, withdrawing something he had offered too soon by reflex. He turned to Jake and hugged him. "Hi, Jake," he said softly.
For all his worldliness, Jake found himself a little awed. Maybe because of Michael's beauty, maybe because of how Brandon felt about Michael, and maybe because of everything that Brandon had told Jake about him. Michael seemed almost larger than life. But then again, maybe he was.
Michael led them inside the offices. They passed a small reception area, entered a hall, and from the hall, entered a large, double office. There were two desks, one at each end of a long room. On the far wall were two floor-to-ceiling windows with a leather couch between. On the near wall was a matching couch. In the middle of the room, was a table with two bowls, milk, and cereal. Davey sat at the table.
Davey had long, fine, almost-white hair, which was as disheveled as Michael's. His lean, shorts-clad body was that of an athlete. He was well muscled, but with just enough body fat to soften the definition except when he moved. His skin was lightly tanned, and smooth; and what little leg hair he had was white. He was remarkably attractive in his own right, and there was the promise of an adult with Nordic good looks in his face. His eyes were deeply blue.
His first look at them was dull, then speculative as he eyed Brandon. He brushed back his hair, and Jake noticed he wore a silver version of the same bracelet as Michael's. But then Davey recognized Jake. He smiled instantly and stood. Davey was as tall as Michael, and side-by-side, he looked slightly stronger.
Michael kissed his cheek. "Look who's here."
Davey approached Brandon slowly. When Brandon smiled encouragingly, Davey hugged him. Then he turned to Jake, grinning broadly, and hugged him hard. "Hi, Jake," he said slowly, but happily.
There were four chairs at the table and they all sat. "So this is how you dress for work?" Brandon asked, teasingly.
"We dressed up to answer the door," Michael said with a grin.
"Oh, Honey," Jake exclaimed, "you never need to dress up for us." He winked at Davey.
"You guys sleep on your heads?" Brandon asked.
Michael gave him a puzzled look.
"Your hair's all messed up; both of you."
Michael and Davey looked at each other's hair and Davey giggled.
"We were giving each other scalp massages," Michael explained, smiling.
"At the same time," Davey added.
"Naked," Michael added, with a grin at Davey.
"Laying on each other," Davey added, with a smile back at Michael.
"And kissing," Michael continued.
"And…" Davey started to add.
"We get the idea," Brandon interrupted.
"Oh, gawd, Foxy. Don't stop 'em now."
"Foxy?" Michael chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
Jake rubbed his foot on Brandon's leg and smiled impishly.
Brandon frowned at him. "He insists on calling me that. I tried stopping him from doing it in public, but that only made it worse."
"Public?" Michael asked with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a private? An endearing nickname?" He smiled. "Just what's going on here… Foxy?"
"Cut that out," Brandon fussed.
"He is foxy," Jake said, rubbing Brandon's back. "Aren't you, Babe?"
Brandon leaned back and rolled his eyes.
"You're foxy," Davey said to Jake. "You oughta call him Foxy back," he said to Brandon.
Jake winked at Davey.
Brandon raised an eyebrow. "I just might…" he smiled at Jake, "… Foxy."
"So are you two guys…" Michael started to ask.
"Friends," Brandon said. Then with a glance at Jake; "well, best friends."
"Special friends," Jake confirmed. "But just friends," he added for Brandon's comfort level, not his own.
Michael Bentolli studied them, first one, then the other, and nodded slowly, as if making up his own mind after independent study. Jake felt like he'd been dissected.
"Well," Brandon said, clearing his throat. "We didn't mean to interrupt you guys. I just wanted to let you know we're in town for the party."
"Knox's party?" Michael asked.
"Yeah, Baby," Jake answered. "I'm fixin' him up good. This is gonna be a helluva party. We're gonna burn the town down."
Michael grinned. "I've seen you wiggle your ass, Jake. I believe you."
"Ohhh," Jake cooed, pleased. "I love you too, Baby."
"So can't you stay and visit?" Michael asked. "Want some cereal?"
Jake waited for Brandon to answer.
Brandon shook his head. "Nah, we have friends along. We need to get back to them."
"You remember Blair and Tyler, don't you, Honey?" Jake asked.
"They're here?" Davey asked, surprised.
The slightest of frowns passed over Michael's face before he shrugged it off. Jake noticed, and was surprised at what Michael said next.
"Get them. Davey and I have only had a bit of cereal. Go get them and meet us somewhere for breakfast. We'll pay. Have they seen San Antonio? We can show them around."
"First, Honey," Jake said. "You need to do something with your hair. You have a mirror around here?" He looked at Davey's hair. "Baby, I'd love to work on that. Let me brush out your hair for you."
Davey looked inquiringly at Michael, who nodded assent. They gathered up a brush and comb and headed for the mirror in the john.
Once they left the room, Michael smiled. "Jake's a smart guy isn't he?"
Brandon nodded, inventorying every one of Michael's features, and deciding that each was better than when he had seen him at Bodz last summer.
"That was a clever way to get Davey out of the room so we could talk," Michael continued.
Brandon nodded again, realizing this time, what Michael was saying. Damn, Brandon thought. Did Jake do that on purpose?
"Look, Brandon," Michael said, leaning across the table to put his hand on Brandon's forearm, "I need to tell you something. Davey and I are promised to each other."
"Yeah," Brandon said, his stomach knotting. "Amy told us."
Michael squeezed his forearm. "I'm going to marry him, Brandon. I've already promised him. When we turn twenty-one, I'm going to marry him."
"Geez, Bent," Brandon said with a sigh. "I guess I figured you guys would always be together, but aren't you overdoing it?"
Michael leaned back in his seat, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "Overdoing love?" he asked softly, then looked into Brandon's eyes. "I can't do less, Bran. If it's overdoing, then I'm going to overdo life. Because I'm spending it with Davey."
"Yeah, Bent, but is he gonna spend it with you? You honestly believe that Davey can live up to your promise?"
"I have to believe it," Michael said with a smile. "It's my job."
"Your job?" Brandon asked, bemused.
Michael's smile softened. "Yeah," he said softly. "My job, as his mate; as his friend. I have to believe in Davey. And I do believe, Bran. He can do it. And he will."
"And if he doesn't?"
Michael frowned. "He will, Brandon. But even if he doesn't, I'll keep my promise. I belong to him for life and nothing is going to change that. If he ever does anything I need to forgive, I'll forgive him, and I'll forget it, and it will be as if it never happened. We know how to do that, Brandon. I know how to forgive like that."
"Oh?" Brandon asked skeptically. "Have you ever forgiven Geoff?" Brandon was referring to the large, strong jock who had raped Michael.
Michael cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I have."
Brandon raised an eyebrow himself; skeptically.
"On my front porch," Michael said, "face to face. I said I would forgive him and I meant it. I told him I'd forget the things he did."
Brandon considered and decided to make a point. "So then, I can invite him to the party?"
Michael rocked back in his seat. He frowned. He chewed his lip. And then he surprised Brandon. "I should say yes," Michael said, sounding as though he were really considering it. "But Bran, we're going to have two guys there who've never been to bed with a guy; two virgins -- and for Pete's sake, don't tell anybody about that, or everyone will be all over them – anyway, I'm just afraid of what Geoff might do if he latched on to one of them."
"I won't ask Geoff," Brandon said. "I wasn't serious."
"You were just testing me?" Michael asked with a smile.
"Maybe," Brandon said. "But in the long run, I think Davey's the one who'll really test you."
"Brandon," Michael said, pushing up from the table and walking to the window with clenched fists. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of people telling me how much room I need to give Davey, or how Davey's going to fail me." He wheeled on Brandon, his dark eyes flashing. "I remember what I told you when we fought in the hall at school. I told you Davey was twice the man you are. Maybe that's still true."
Brandon felt like he'd been gut-punched and pushed up from the table himself. He started to reply angrily. He started to tell Bent to wake up. But in a moment of clarity, he realized that to speak against Davey now, or ever again, would drive Michael off, but to speak for him… "I'm sorry," Brandon said. "Maybe he is twice the man, Bent. If you think so, he probably is."
The scowl on Michael's face quickly faded. "No," he said quickly. "I don't think that. Bran, you've always encouraged me and Davey. That's one reason you and me… well," Michael paused, stepping closer. He put a hand on Brandon's arm. "I still need you to encourage me, Bran. Be the friend you've always been."
There was a sudden catch in Brandon's throat. Michael didn't mean the kind of friend he'd always been, because he'd once been much more than a friend. But he nodded. "I still love you, Bent."
Michael stepped away and turned once more to the window. "I'll always love you, too, Bran. I've told you I'll always remember our ten days, and I will. You saved me that summer and I loved you with all my heart. I didn't hold anything back."
Brandon looked at the mussed hair, the slender, almost naked form, of his once-lover, and he wanted to hold him. He wanted to step forward and take him in his arms. If he did, Michael might, just might, melt. But if he didn't…
The moment passed. Michael turned back to him again. "Davey and I are going to need time to go home and shower up." He looked at his watch. "It's almost ten. How about if we meet at noon at Mi Tierra? We can give Blair and Tyler a Tex-Mex breakfast and show them the Riverwalk."
Davey laughed when Jake told him about throwing Brandon's underwear out the car window and about how Brandon wrestled him into the back of the car. His laughter became a smile when Jake told him how it ended with lovemaking.
Jake ran his hand over Davey's hair once more. He liked the feel of it, fine, soft. And he liked the look of it, and of Davey's bare shoulders. But he wasn't aroused. Instead, Jake felt almost as though he was standing beside a shy and gentle pony; a beautiful pony with a blond mane. He ran the brush through it again.
He thought about Davey thinking he was married, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to be married to such a creature. Then he wondered what it would be like being married to Michael. And then he wondered what it would be like to be married to Brandon. "Amy… is that her name?" Jake asked.
Davey nodded, watching him in the mirror.
"Amy said you and Michael are acting like newlyweds on a honeymoon."
Davey shrugged. "We've been together a long time," he said. "Since we were six."
"But it's different now?" Jake asked. "Now that you two made your promise?"
Davey thought a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, because now, he belongs to me for all my life. And I belong to him, for all his life."
Jake tried to imagine what that would feel like, to belong that way.
"We sorta always knew," Davey said. "But the promise makes it different. He cocked his head. "Maybe it is like a honeymoon. We've only been promised two days." He glanced up at Jake's reflection and grinned. "We've been making love a lot."
"I bet you have," Jake said with a laugh, while he continued to brush Davey's hair.
"Look," Davey said, lifting his wrist with the bracelet. "Mickey gave me this, and I gave him a gold one with my name on it."
Jake examined it and when he took a closer look, he was surprised to find that it was actually quite elegant. The metal was finely crafted and well-worked. "It's gorgeous," Jake said. "Michael has good taste."
Davey grinned. "I picked it out. I picked them both out. I surprised him."
Jake smiled, wondering whether Davey really had. "That's cool, Baby," Jake said. "Do you think that you really surprised him?"
"Maybe," Davey said with a shrug. "He cried."
Davey's gaze drifted as he remembered, then he smiled shyly at Jake. "I cried, too."
It sounded sweet, Jake thought. He patted Davey's shoulder and examined the bracelet again, with a deeper appreciation. He lifted the bracelet nameplate with Michael on it. When he did, his fingers felt engraving on the other side. Carefully, he turned it over. It said, Love Never Fails. "Oh," he said. "That's beautiful."
Davey fingered the nameplate with the fingers of his other hand. "We aren't going to fail," Davey said quietly.
Jake watched Davey's thoughtful face and gave in to a sudden urge, hugging him and kissing his cheek.
"You like the bracelet?" Davey asked.
"Oh yeah," Jake answered. "The bracelet's beautiful. But so are you, Babe."
Jake came around Davey and leaned back against the sink counter. "You really love each other?" he asked quietly.
Davey nodded. "We always have."
Jake sighed, and lifted Davey's arm with the bracelet once more.
"You like Brandon?" Davey asked.
Jake glanced up at him. "We're just friends… well best friends," he said, mainly because that's what he thought Brandon would want him to say.
Davey held Jake's eyes. "It's OK," he said quietly, "to fall in love with your best friend."
Jake considered that, and then smiled. "I think I have."
After they left, Michael sat at the table, thinking. Davey was thinking as well, sitting on his desk, behind Michael. He was remembering that morning, before Brandon and Jake came. Like every morning, he woke, snuggled with Michael. This time, as was often the case, he awoke with his arm across Michael's chest and his leg over Michael's middle.
When he opened his eyes, Michael was still asleep, and Davey snuggled closer, his lips close to Michael's on the pillow. He marveled once more that of all the people in the world, they had found each other, and he did something else he did almost every morning these days; he fell in love with Michael… again. Michael's rose-colored lips were so close; he kissed them softly and Michael woke with a smile.
And now, from his desk, Davey looked at the hard-muscled back of his lover and decided to pick up where they'd left off when Brandon and Jake came. He walked over to Michael and sat astride his lap. Running his fingers into Michael's mussed-up hair, he leaned his forehead to Michael's. "Hey Old Man," he said.
"Hey Old Man," Michael replied with their pet nickname, his hands sliding up Davey's bare ribs.
Davey was proud of his lover, and would have liked to tell Jake more about him. Just like he could tell that Jake wanted to talk about Brandon. "Jake loves Brandon," Davey said simply.
"Yeah, I know," Michael replied, slipping his hands into the back of Davey's shorts.
"Does Brandon love Jake?" Davey asked.
"I don't know," Michael said, pausing. "At least in the way you mean… I don't know. If he does, I don't think he's realized it yet."
"I hope he does," Davey said. "I like Jake."
"Yeah, me too," Michael replied, his eyes drifting down Davey's chest and belly to where the fullness in Davey's pants nestled on the fullness in his. Michael leaned forward, and holding Davey by his ribs, he put his mouth over Davey's right nipple.
He sucked and licked. Davey squirmed, head back, fingers working in Michael's hair.
What Davey would have found difficult to explain to Jake; what either of them would find difficult to explain to most of their friends, was how much Davey and Michael had worked for what they had. At only sixteen years of age, they had learned lessons that would not come to others for some time. And it had taken them ten years to learn them.
But they had learned. And now as a result, when other sixteen year-olds were experiencing the heavy seas of sex and love, these two veterans had found, at least for a while, a quiet, deep lagoon.
When Davey's right nipple had hardened, Michael moved to the left. It was hard already, but he sucked it not simply to please Davey, but because he simply loved to suck Davey's nipples. He smiled when the crown of Davey's cock appeared above the waistband of his shorts. Davey loved having his nipples sucked.
Michael pushed up on Davey's ribs to get him to stand over his lap, kissing and licking down the smooth skin of Davey's belly. Then he pulled Davey's pants down, capturing the end of Davey's cock in his mouth. Davey groaned, clutching Michael's hair as he felt Mickey's warm, wet mouth close over his shaft. His legs almost buckled when Michael's tongue caressed his crown.
Davey was on the long side of average, with a thick cut cock, that, along with his balls, delighted Michael by flushing deep red when Davey made love. They were red now. Michael sucked him deep into his mouth. Then he stroked the underside of Davey's scrotum with his fingertips and relaxed his throat to take Davey deeper.
Davey shuddered, and bending over Michael clutched his black hair tightly. Michael knew how to make it good for Davey, and Davey had to pull out to keep from coming prematurely. He stepped back, and pulled Michael to his feet, sliding down in front of him, tracking his tongue down the center seam of Michael's abs.
On his knees, Davey pulled Michael's pants down to reveal a long, straight cock; an Italian cock, as Michael had told him proudly more than once. The foreskin had already drawn back off the crown, but taking it into his hand, Davey pushed the extra skin firmly down the shaft, stretching it back from the head. He closed his lips just behind the glans and swirled with his tongue.
Michael whimpered, holding the side of Davey's head. Davey looked up, his mouth still full, to see the flush in Michael's face and the flaring of his nostrils. Watching his affect on Michael, Davey sucked down the shaft. Then back. Then down. He bobbed until Michael began to thrust.
Then Davey rose to his feet, and they both stepped from their shorts. Taking Michael by the hand. Davey drew him to the couch, where he lay down on his back and opened his arms and legs to Mickey.
At thirteen, they discovered "rubbing" and it remained their favorite way to make love. Knox taught them that it was called "frottage" and they called it frott. Davey wanted to frott now.
Michael lay down on him, his hips settling between Davey's legs, and reaching under the back of Davey's shoulders, he grabbed hold. Davey grasped Michael's butt, and they moved together. After three years, Michael knew how to move to please Davey, pressing his belly firmly to Davey's, then pressing forward with his hips, sending the pressure down the underside of their shafts, and ending with firm pressure from his balls on Davey's, pressing scrotums back against sensitive perineums; and holding the pleasure intimately.
Davey knew how to open his legs to the side, stretching tendons and tightening pelvic muscles to give a firm platform for Michael to rub over. He knew how to pull Michael forward by his butt cheeks, gently spreading them. He knew how to arch his pelvis up to meet Michael's downthrust.
When Davey was on top, there were subtle differences, differences they knew, and knew how to play to, to please each other. They liked all the ways they made love, but frotting was intimate, face-to-face, and often passionate.
Davey opened his mouth to Michael's and their tongues wrestled as Michael's hips ground. Davey knew how to move to maximize his pleasure, and Michael knew how to move over Davey for his own pleasure, and how to pace himself with Davey.
Their pace quickened. And as always, when they came, they did so with whimpers and groans so that their partner would know. They each knew by instinct and experience that pleasing the other was the key to their own enjoyment. They drew out their orgasms and ended them slowly with nuzzles and kisses.
As Michael's weight settled pleasantly on him, Davey squeezed him tightly in his arms and rocked him, their damp bellies sliding over each other.
"Davey?" Michael whispered in his ear, pleasantly surprised at the rocking. "You OK?"
"Uh-huh, Mickey," Davey murmured. "I'm just glad about our promise."
Michael chuckled and nuzzled Davey's neck. "You glad you don't ever have to worry about Brandon?"
They laughed when Michael told them how he'd once given Davey a kiss with a mouth full of salsa. It had been at this very restaurant, at Mi Tierra. Then, the six of them groaned when Michael told them about the time Davey kissed him just after each had vomited because of a hard run.
Brandon watched Michael, saw the happiness, and saw the countless little signals between Michael and Davey that showed their love for each other. Brandon doubted that Michael Bentolli had ever had anything as light as a crush in his life, or that he ever could. Michael lived life more sincerely than most people. And what Brandon saw between Michael and Davey was sincere. Brandon could almost believe that Davey and Michael were together for life.
Conversation turned to the party, and Jake's plans with Knox. The one non-teen at the party, other than Knox, would be a gay DJ that Jake had found and liked. Though Jake didn't know nearly as many gay teens in San Antonio as he indicated to Knox, he did know several, who each knew a couple… who knew a couple. Jake hoped for as many as forty gays.
"We don't have to go back for a couple of days after the party," Tyler said. "When do you guys have to go back to school?"
Michael glanced at Davey. "Well, we don't have to be back until like a week later, but Davey and I are flying up to Chicago the day after New Years. We're gonna spend a few days with my grandpa."
"Your grandpa?" Tyler asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Michael shifted uncomfortably. "He's got cancer. Davey and me… we want to see him again."
Brandon knew how special Michael's grandpa was to him, but he hadn't heard about the cancer. There was so much about Michael he didn't know any more. Babies, grandpas, promises of marriage, and a promise it sounded like Michael would never break… Michael had moved on with his life. Whereas, Brandon's own life seemed to be stalling.
Jake watched Brandon closely all day, worried for his friend. He'd told Tyler and Blair about the new arrangement with Michael and Davey, and warned them not to talk about it in front of Brandon. He noticed later that Tyler made a play for Michael anyway. It was while they walked along the Riverwalk, and it happened quickly. Jake was the only one to catch it. He smiled when Michael shut Tyler down.
But now Jake lay in bed, in just his briefs, as he thumbed through a landscaping book Davey had loaned him. He waited for Brandon to return from the john. If Brandon needed comforting, he would comfort him. If Brandon needed not to talk about it, Jake wouldn't say a word.
Coming into the bedroom in only his pajama bottoms, low on his hips, Brandon closed the door and leaned back against it. The look in Brandon's eyes surprised him, but Jake's instincts told him he was reading the look correctly; Brandon wanted him.
Jake rose from the bed, peeling off his briefs on his way to Brandon. Brandon stood up from leaning against the door and held open his pajama fly with a cocked eyebrow. Jake rose on his toes in front of him and lowered himself into Brandon's pajamas.
Brandon sighed and wrapped his arms around Jake's warm, naked body, and Jake wrapped his over Brandon's strong shoulders. They grew hard together inside Brandon's pajama bottoms.
Brandon's skin was hot, his shoulder muscles hard under Jake's hands. Brandon pulled Jake's slender body close. "I want to make wild love tonight, Jake. All night. I want you bad." He rocked Jake in his arms. "Want me bad, too, Jake. Want me real bad."
Jake ran his fingers into the back of Brandon's hair and held his head tightly. His eyes closed as his lips parted and he moved his mouth to Brandon's. They kissed, and the kiss grew hot. Brandon grabbed under Jake's butt and lifted him up off the floor. Jake wrapped his legs around Brandon's hips; while his tongue danced with Brandon's inside their mouths. Brandon carried Jake to the bed, lowering him onto it and lowering himself onto Jake.
They rolled to the middle, and Brandon kicked off his pajama bottoms. Jake lifted his legs and Brandon knelt at his bottom, hot, licking over Jake's scrotum, down under it, pressing Jake's perineum hard with his tongue. Then he licked in Jake's crack, preparing him, getting him ready; getting both of them ready.
Brandon grew even harder as Jake squirmed and whimpered at the pressure of his tongue. Then Brandon rose and entered him, laying himself down onto Jake. Brandon's skin was hot and flushed, his muscles hard. Jake pulled Brandon's heat and strength tight against himself and wrapped his legs over the back of Brandon's legs, while Brandon thrust.
The old bed protested, loudly squeaking with each pumping of Brandon's hips. Tyler and Blair could hear it clearly on the other side of the wall. "Damn," Tyler whispered. "Guess he's over it good, huh?"
Blair rubbed himself, listening to the squeaking bed and imagined what was happening on it. He rolled onto Tyler and found him hard as well.
"It might be just you and me some on this trip," Tyler said, looking up at Blair in the near darkness.
"I'm cool with it," Blair said in a husky voice, rubbing himself against Tyler.
"Me too," Tyler said quietly, and grabbing Blair by the butt, pulled him more tightly to himself.
Blair bent slowly, paused, then kissed Tyler softly, tenderly. His hair brushed the sides of Tyler's face, and made the kiss private, intimate.
Tyler was surprised. They hadn't kissed that way in a long time, if ever.
Blair's eyes searched his for a reaction. With a hand behind Blair's neck, Tyler pulled him gently down to kiss again.
They brushed lips, and then pressed them softly. The kiss began gently. But the steady cadence of the bedsprings next door soon quickened Tyler's pulse. He pulled Blair down tightly.