Brian is used to being in control in the bedroom, but somehow he's found himself without anyone to play with. Then he runs into recently-returned -- and surprisingly grown-up -- Val, who he knew years before as a cute high-school kid. Val's not a high-school kid anymore, though, and there's an air about him that says he's been around and has had a few lessons in the bedroom.
Brian's eager to provide some advanced schooling, but his assumptions end up getting him into trouble. To his own surprise, he finds it's a kind of trouble he's not all that eager to escape.
Brian Stokes gave a rueful wave to his sometime fuck-buddy, Tom, who was being dragged out the door of the Banner Street Gym -- and without even a chance to shower -- by his new boyfriend, Alan or Alex or Aaron or something like that. Brian blew a kiss to Tom's slightly hunched and retreating back, flipped the bird at the evil glare whatever-his-name was aiming at Brian over his shoulder, then stepped over to the desk with a pitiful sigh and started sorting through the box of member cards, looking for his own workout record.
Kelsie, the desk clerk, gave him a look of exaggerated pity, all puppy eyes and trembling lower lip, then dropped the act and giggled at him. "What's the matter, Bri? Left dating your hand again?"
"I'll have you know I never date my hand," Brian replied with a sniff and an arched eyebrow. "I just fuck it occasionally and then roll over and go to sleep."
"So you treat it just like everyone else, then," said Kelsie.
Brian opened his eyes wide and pressed one hand to his chest in exaggerated pain. "Kelsie! What'd I ever do to you?"
"Nothing, unfortunately. I'd even go for one of your one-nighters," she added, giving him an appreciative down-and-up look, "but you won't even throw me that much of a bone."
"Sorry, honey -- incompatible equipment." Brian leaned both elbows on the counter and gave her an apologetic smile. "If I swung that way, I promise you're the first woman I'd grab."
Kelsie managed to eyeroll and giggle simultaneously.
Contrary to popular opinion, Brian actually preferred having someone regular to tackle into bed. Not necessarily something as formal as a "lover" -- he liked some variety occasionally and official lovers tended to think about relationships and monogamy and all that -- but someone who liked to play the same games, someone he could get used to and who'd get used to him, to learn each other's spots and tells and noises and expressions.
He and Tom had had that, the familiarity that comes with experience, when you'd had sex with the same person often enough that you just knew what they needed and how much was almost too much and what that little gasp meant. Tom had known everything about Brian, too, and they'd had a lot of good times together, even a few threesomes with some random hot guy they'd pick up at a bar for the night. It'd been great, just enough without being too much, at least in Brian's opinion. Tom had disagreed, though, after twenty really awesome months. Or at least, what Brian had thought'd been really awesome.
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