by Tim Mead
Amanda worked out well doing the deliveries, and Adrian assured Brody they were happy with the product and service they were receiving from Cox Floral. (The name of the shop in Higgins was Petal Pushers. When they opened the new store in Colby, Bob and his father had insisted on calling it Cox Floral, which was the name they had used all along for the company. Brody asked one day why they didn't call the Higgins Shop Cox Floral as well, but Bob told him that would never happen so long as their mother was alive. Petal Pushers was the name she'd given the original shop, and she wasn't about to allow them to change it.)
Brody was doing well in his classes. He really enjoyed freshman composition, a course nearly everyone else claimed to hate. But Bruce Evans, the instructor, was not only intelligent, he was a really nice guy. He had a knack for getting the class to talk about their reading assignments or about one another's essays, and his remarks, done in green ink, on Brody's essays were invariably complimentary or encouraging. Brody asked one day what Bruce would be teaching the next semester. He was disappointed when the TA told him it was the lot of TA's to teach only the introductory writing course.
Bruce smiled. "Are you thinking about majoring in English, Brody? You'd be excellent."
Brody blushed. "No, I can't imagine what I'd do with an English major. I'll have to pick something a lot more practical, business, probably."
"That's a shame. Why don't you take some more English courses, maybe intro to lit, just to see how you like them?"
"Thanks, Bruce. Maybe I will."
Aaron Schwartz, his botany professor, was also a nice guy. Although he didn't act stereotypically gay, Brody was convinced the man was "family," as Pete liked to say. Often during his lectures he'd look from his rostrum directly at Brody. He'd look at others, too, no doubt to see if they were getting the point he was making. But he looked more frequently at Brody.
One day in a devilish mood Brody unobtrusively stuck his hand in his pocket and stroked himself just enough to get his dick hard. He sat with his legs apart, his cock making an obvious snake down his left pant leg. The next time Dr. Schwartz looked at Brody, he did an obvious double take. Then he coughed and went back to the lecture. A few minutes later the professor looked his way again. Brody licked his lips. After that it seemed he looked back at Brody's obvious boner often, though sometimes out of the corner of his eyes rather than full on. Near the end of the period, he took a white handkerchief from his pants pocket and mopped his forehead with it.
As he dismissed the class, he said, "Oh, Mr. Cox, could you stay for just a moment, please?"
Brody remained in his chair until the others had gone. Then he stood, his pants still tented, and approached the professor. As he got closer, he could tell that Schwartz had the same problem.
"Cox, what was that all about?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have done that. I just, well, uh, I wondered – "
"You wondered if I'm gay?"
Schwartz smiled. "You could have just asked. Yes, I'm gay. I don't make any secret of it, though I try not to flaunt it. What put you on to me?"
"Oh, you don't flaunt it, professor. I just thought I saw something in your face sometimes when you looked at me."
Schwartz grinned. "Woops! I've never been a good poker player, either. So, now you know. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I assure you I have no evil designs on you. You're an excellent student. I don't know what your career plans are, but I hope you'll consider majoring in botany. Meanwhile, I can't help enjoying looking out there and seeing such a hunk in the class. Are you okay with that?"
"Sir, I'm flattered. And I want you to know I really like this class. No bullshit."
"Are you related to the family that has the florist shops?"
"Yes, sir. My folks started the shop in Higgins, and now that they've retired, my brother Bob runs the business. I think they expect me to become a partner when I finish school."
"Then botany would be an appropriate major, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, sir, I suppose it would. Or maybe a business major and a botany minor?"
"Or the other way around."
"Yeah, I suppose so."
"Well, Brody, I'm glad we had this talk. If you want to talk about majoring in botany, feel free to come and see me. I promise not to attack you in my office. But, please, don't pull that trick again," he said as he looked at Brody's package, which had subsided by that time. "It could be very embarrassing for both of us. I'd hate to ask you to stand up and explain some abstruse point of botany when you were sporting such a handsome woodie."
Grinning, Brody said, "I'll behave, sir. I promise."
Grinning back, Schwartz grabbed his briefcase and said, "You'd better, young man. You'd better."
Brody continued to see Adrian Lynch, though he was beginning to develop some issues about their relationship.
When he got home the day after their trip to the ballet, he realized that despite his resolve, once more he hadn't managed to top Lynch. Adrian was quite simply the sexiest, the most beautiful man Brody had ever encountered. He was almost constantly aroused when the two were together, and he often got an erection just thinking about him. The two of them had the best sex Brody had ever had. He loved whatever he and Adrian were doing together in bed. His mind often simply shut down as the older man assailed his senses.
It was only when they weren't having sex that he remembered that he'd never topped. Oh, he'd sat on Adrian's cock and bounced up and down. Adrian had given him several mind-blowing suck jobs. But he'd never had his dick in the other man's ass, and he couldn't help thinking Adrian planned things that way. Was it a control issue, or did he just not like taking it up the ass?
He determined to find out.
One evening when they'd had a late dinner at the restaurant and then gone back to Adrian's penthouse, they'd undressed and were in bed engaging in foreplay. After some kissing, Brody began to nibble on Adrian's nipples. Then he went back up to lick and nibble his ears. Then his neck. Back to the nipples. Adrian, of course, moaned his appreciation.
When Brody moved to his dick and began to suck on it, Adrian encouraged him. "Oh, yes, baby boy, that's perfect. Yesss."
Since Brody's hair was so short, Adrian grabbed his ears and pulled his head so that Brody was forced to take more of his cock. Brody surprised his partner by pulling completely off. "Let go of my ears. I know what I'm doing." Adrian let his hands drop to the bed, and Brody went back to deep-throating him.
After a while, sensing that Adrian was nearing a climax, he quit sucking him and easily flipped him over on his stomach.
"But I was so close to coming!"
"I said shut up! And that's an order."
"Yes, sir," Adrian said in a bewildered voice.
"You'll come. Just wait for it."
He took a pillow and put it under Adrian's pelvis. Then he pulled the two globes of Adrian's admirable ass apart and began to lick up and back down the trench. Soon Adrian began to moan and wiggle his rear. When Brody began to tongue his pucker, the older man groaned and shoved it toward Brody's face, encouraging him to enter.
"Oh, yes, my Marine. Keep doing that, please. It's sooo hot!"
It took only a few minutes of tongue fucking to have Adrian writhing and moaning and begging for more.
Brody pushed himself up with his arms, as if he were doing pushups. He looked down at the panting man beneath him.
"What happens now?"
"If you're not going to fuck me, you bastard, there's going to be hell to pay! Now, stick that magnificent cock in me. And that's an order!"
Brody chuckled. "I thought you'd never ask."
The next morning Adrian offered to let Brody fuck him again, but he asked him to be gentle because he was a little tender down there. "It's been a while since I've let anyone do that."
Instead, Brody grabbed his knees, pulled them up against his chest, and said, "Have at it. We can both walk a little funny today."
At breakfast, he asked, "Have you been playing some kind of game about letting me inside you?"
Adrian took a sip of coffee, dabbed a napkin against his lips and looked at Brody without smiling. Brody was as always mesmerized by those cobalt eyes.
"Maybe?" Brody had almost forgotten the question.
"Not a game, really. I admit I'm a pretty controlling person. What you'd call a take-charge guy. It's only when I really like someone that I'll bottom for him. When you and I first started seeing each other, I didn't know how long we'd last. I knew you'd be a great fuck. God knows, you're gorgeous, and I wanted you the minute I saw you there in your shop. But I've known lots of hot, handsome guys. And, face it, I don't have much trouble getting them into bed. Most of the time it's a couple of dates, and then I send them on their way."
Brody nodded, still looking at Adrian's eyes, at his almost hungry-looking face. He was puzzled by the paradox: how could somebody who looked so sensitive be so . . . so what? Manipulative? No, he didn't feel manipulated exactly. He'd been obsessed with Adrian, by his incredible looks, of course, but by his charm as well. He'd willingly gone along with everything Adrian had suggested.
"So I passed some kind of test?"
"Well, that sounds pretty harsh. Let's just say last night I wanted you to fuck me. And it was fantastic! I loved it when you got all butch and Marine on me."
"I'm normally not like that, you know. It's just that I'd gotten kind of worried because you never seemed to want me to be the top. I finally decided I just had to find out."
"You could have just asked, Brody."
"And you could have asked me to do you, Adrian."
* * *
It was Sheila who reminded Brody about Justin's birthday. "It's next weekend, you know." Actually, he hadn't known the exact date.
That afternoon when there was a lull at the shop, he called the Quinns' number.
"Hello, Mrs. Quinn?"
"This is Brody, Brody Cox."
"Oh, hello, Brody. It's nice to hear your voice. We haven't seen you since you were here for Sunday dinner. And Justin hasn't mentioned you lately. Are you okay?"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm fine. How are you and your family?"
"Oh, we're all fine, dear. Mother is, well, she's mother."
"Actually, I'm calling about Justin's birthday. I was wondering if you had some plans."
"Yes, we do. We're having a family party on Saturday evening. Friday's his birthday, but we've decided to celebrate it on the weekend."
"I haven't seen Jus since that day at your house. He's okay, you say?"
"Yes, he's been fine."
"Well, I'd like to take him to dinner to celebrate, just the two of us. Do you think he'd be free on that Friday evening, the day of his birthday?"
"So far as I know he is, but I'd better let him call you."
"I'll be at the shop until 5:00. If he can call when he gets home from school, would you ask him to call me here? Otherwise, he could call me at home."
"Yes, I'll be sure to tell him."
"Thanks, Mrs. Quinn. I'd appreciate it."
Justin called Brody at the shop about 4:00.
"Hey, Brode, `sup?"
"Hey, dude, where ya been? I haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah, I know. I'd rather explain in person sometime, though."
"Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I know you're having a birthday celebration on Saturday night. Would you let me take you to dinner on Friday?"
"You mean it? Yeah, that'd be great!"
"Where do you want to go? Your call."
"You sure? Anyplace?"
"The place I have in mind is sort of expensive."
"Hey, Jus, it's your eighteenth birthday. Anyplace you want."
"Yeah, dammit, I said anyplace."
"Then I'd like you to take me to Adrian's."
"Yeah, you've heard of it, haven't you?"
"I know the place."
"Well, my folks say it's a great place for special occasions, so that's where I'd like to go. If it's not too much for your wallet, that is."
"You're right, squirt. If you want to go to Adrian's, then we'll do it. I'll make the reservations. Pick you up about six?"
"Sounds great, Brody. You're still the coolest dude I know."
"Yeah, lil bro, and don't you forget it. Now, listen, you'll need to wear a jacket and tie Friday night if we're going to Adrian's. Is that a problem?"
"Great. See you Friday."
When Brody called the restaurant about the reservations he was told they were booked up until 9:00 that Friday evening.
"Is this Raul?"
"Yes, sir, this is Raul."
"Oh, Raul, this is Brody Cox. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you, Mr. Cox."
"Great! Listen, Raul, a friend of mine is celebrating a birthday, and he's asked to come to Adrian's. Is there any chance, you know, that you could work us in?"
"If you'll wait one moment please, Mr. Cox."
A moment later he heard, "Brody, it's Adrian. There will be no problem about Friday night. I've told Raul to reserve my table for you and your guest. You say he's having a birthday?"
"Yeah, he's just turning eighteen."
"Robbing the cradle, are we, stud?" Brody could tell Adrian was smiling.
"Jeez, don't start. I'll explain about Justin sometime. But look, a customer just came in. Thanks for holding the table for us. I'll owe you."
"I'll collect from your sweet ass, baby. And I'll be eager to meet your friend, too."
The next day on his lunch hour Brody drove to a sporting goods store in the biggest mall in Colby. There he purchased the same kind of infielder's mitt used in the big leagues.
When Brody pulled into the Quinn's driveway, Justin, who'd obviously been watching for him, came out at once. He was wearing a black, three-button suit. Brody, who had only his blazer and gray slacks, felt a bit underdressed.
"Hey, Jus, lookin' good there man!"
"Thanks, Brody. The folks said since I was a senior and would be going to lots of dressy things this year, I should have a dressy suit. You really think it looks good?"
As they drove toward Colby, Justin said, "Brode, I guess I need to apologize to you."
"For avoiding you."
"Yeah, well, I've kind of missed having you around on Saturday mornings. I'm just glad you've been okay."
"Well, after our talk in the park that Sunday afternoon, I was really upset. It seemed to me all that business about the difference in our ages really meant you didn't like me, didn't want to be bothered with me."
"Bullshit, man! I do like you, and I want us to always be buds. I thought I'd made that clear."
"Oh, that's what you said. I guess I just didn't want to hear that. I wanted, uh, well, anyway, after I moped around for a couple of weeks, Mom sat me down and we had a long talk. She made me see that I was lucky to have you for a friend, and that I needed to get out there and find a friend my own age. She didn't exactly say `boyfriend,' but that's what she meant, I'm pretty sure."
"Well, you should listen to her. Your folks are terrific people."
"Yeah, I know."
"Okay, so we're cool, right?"
"Yeah, Brode. You just keep on being my big bro, though, huh?"
"Never doubt it, lil bro."
"Cool! So now I suppose I'd better fess up and tell you why I wanted to go to Adrian's."
"Fess up? You said you'd always wanted to eat there."
"Well, that's sort of true. Mom and Pop do think it's a great place for special occasions. But that's not really why I wanted to go there. I hope you won't be mad at me."
"And the real reason is . . . ?"
"I hope the owner will be there. I want a look at the dude you're fucking."
"You sneaky little bastard!"
"No, Jus, relax. I'm not really mad."
Flashing his smile, the boy said, "Whew! I didn't want to piss you off, but people are talking, you know. Mom says she heard people at work gossiping about Lynch being seen around with the Cox brother who'd just gotten out of the Marines."
"Christ! Do you have to live in New fuckin' York to have any privacy?"
Justin chuckled. "Well, maybe you'll just have to learn to live with your celebrity status."
"Who said Adrian was a celebrity?"
"His picture's on the society page of the Colby Courier a lot."
"You read the society pages?"
"Shit, no. That's just what Mom said."
"Well, I don't know whether Adrian will be there this evening or not. He's the general manager of the place, but it can run without him. Besides, we're sitting at his table."
"We are? Cool! Now, want to tell me what's in that big box on the back seat? It's sure wrapped nice."
"I wrapped it myself, and you'll have to wait until after supper to find out what's in it."
"That's pretty fancy wrapping for a Marine."
"I learned to do stuff like that when I was your age or younger, working in the shop."
"Oh, right. Seems pretty queer to me."
"Hey, squirt, you watch your smart mouth or we'll go to Subway for dinner."
"Okay, okay, I'll be good!"
Brody had run the Grand Cherokee through a car wash that afternoon, but it still didn't look like the kind of vehicle that usually pulled up in front of Adrian's. The good-looking college student valet acted as if it were a Mercedes, however.
"Good evening, Mr. Cox. Welcome to Adrian's."
"Hey, Phil," Brody said after glancing at the young man's name tag, "have we met?"
"No, sir, but I was told to look out for you."
He whisked the car away.
"Wow, VIP treatment, huh?"
Brody chuckled. "Probably not. I imagine they just wanted to hide my car before anybody saw it."
When the two stepped inside, a middle-aged couple was standing at the maitre d's podium. He handed two menus to a waiting server and they were ushered into the dining room
"Mr. Cox, how nice to see you this evening, sir. If you and your guest will come with me, your table's waiting."
Brody wondered what Raul was really thinking, but he couldn't fault the man's performance. When they were seated, he thanked Raul, who told them their server, Sidney, would be with them presently.
"Wow! This is all so great! We're getting the royal treatment."
"You know, Jus, Adrian says that he expects his staff to give every customer the same treatment they'd give him."
"Yeah," Justin said, "but not every customer gets to sit at the owner's table."
"Technically, this isn't Adrian's table. His dad's the owner. Adrian's the general manager. But his dad is out of town most of the time."
"So what's it like having an old guy for a boyfriend?"
Brody chuckled. "I'll let you keep on wondering. If he's here tonight, then you can tell me what you think later."
Just then Sidney appeared to take their drink orders. Brody ordered the house cabernet sauvignon, and Justin ordered 7-Up. "It sucks that I can't have a drink with you. I have to wait until I'm twenty fuckin' one to get a drink."
"Hey, I'm sorry, Jus. I can cancel the wine order and have pop with you."
"No, enjoy yourself. Besides, I'm allowed to drink wine at home and I don't really like it much. It's just the principle of the thing, you know?"
"Yeah, I understand. So, what are you in the mood for?"
"Steak. Red meat!"
Brody chuckled. "The steaks I've had here are always fantastic. But I'd suggest you order the Steak Diane."
"Any special reason why?"
"Yeah, there's a little show that comes with it. It's cooked tableside."
They ordered Steak Diane and both enjoyed the show as their steaks were prepared.
A bus boy had just taken away their dinner plates when a voice said, "I hope everything has been satisfactory, gentlemen."
Justin looked up and his mouth dropped open. There stood Adrian in a tuxedo.
Brody chuckled and stood up. Adrian grabbed him in a hug and gave him a brief kiss.
"Adrian, this is my bud, Justin Quinn."
Justin had stood by this time, but he was still looking stunned.
Adrian held out his hand and said, "Mr. Quinn, it's a pleasure to meet you and to have you with us."
"Uh, it's Justin, please, Mr. Lynch, and it's good to meet you, sir."
Adrian chuckled. "It's Adrian, please. Now, if I may, I'll sit with you for just a moment."
"Please do," Brody said.
After the three were seated, Adrian said, "I understand it's your birthday, Justin."
"Yes, sir, uh, yes, it is."
"Well, we're not going to embarrass you by bringing a cupcake with a candle in it and singing `Happy Birthday,' but it is our custom to give our guests a complimentary dessert. Would you prefer cherries jubilee or bananas Foster?"
Justin looked at Brody, who shrugged and said, "It's your call, birthday boy."
"I think the bananas, please."
"And will either of you have coffee?"
They both said, "Yes, please."
Adrian chatted with them for a few minutes longer and then left.
"Jus, do you know what bananas Foster is? Are? I sure a hell don't."
"Yeah, I think it's another one of those `tableside' dishes. They serve them flaming over ice cream."
"Oh, yeah, I've heard of that."
"You didn't tell me he was a walking wet dream. Man, he's gorgeous!"
Brody grinned. "Yeah, he is, isn't he?"
"Well, he must think you're pretty special."
"Ya think?" Brody asked, smiling.
"Well, duh. Look at the treatment we're getting. It's been red carpet all the way. Being his, uh, friend sure has its perks."
Something about that bothered Brody, but he didn't say anything.
They enjoyed the show, and the bananas served flaming with the brandy sauce over ice cream were a treat as well.
After asking if there was anything else they would like and being told no, Sidney brought the leather folder which should have contained their bill. Inside was a handwritten note:
This meal's on me, sweetheart. Don't make a fuss about it. That wouldn't be seemly.
Justin's adorable. Now that he's legal, are you going to start doing him?
P.S. Of course you'll want to tip Sidney and the valet nicely.
Brody's first reaction was shock. Then he was furious. He thought about marching into the back and complaining, but he knew Adrian would be very upset if he made a scene in front of either the customers or the staff.
So he put a substantial tip in the folder for Sidney, and then left. Following Adrian's suggestion, he gave Phil a generous tip, too.
Once they were started back to Higgins, Justin said, "Brody, that was great. Thanks, man. I'll never forget that birthday dinner."
"Did you really enjoy it, Jus? Sometimes I think I'd rather eat at Applebee's or someplace like that."
"I know what you mean, but this was a real treat. But can I ask a question that might make you uncomfortable?"
"When did making me uncomfortable ever bother you?"
"Oh, that's cold! I just couldn't help noticing that you didn't put enough money with the bill to begin to pay for a meal like that."
Brody was glad it was dark in the car. He could feel himself blushing. "Yeah, the bastard comped the whole thing."
"Bastard? That seems pretty nice to me."
"Yeah, but look at it this way. He denied me the pleasure of treating you to dinner. And think how it made me feel. Like I couldn't afford the meal."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. I think I see where you're coming from. But don't sweat it. It was a great evening, and I thank you for taking me there."
After they rode a few minutes in silence, Justin said, "What happens now?"
"Well, I dunno. I can take you home I guess, unless there's something else you'd like to do."
"Well, there is, but . . . "
"Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to go home yet. It's too early. Could we go back to your place? I've never seen it. And I promise I'll behave. I'm not going to whine at you to take me to bed. But we still have some things to talk about."
So they wound up at Brody's.
After they'd taken off their jackets, ties and shoes, Brody said, "Jus, since it's a special occasion, would you like to have a beer? Just to celebrate? Of course you won't be of legal age to drink in Ohio until you're 21, but I won't tell if you won't."
The boy beamed. "Yeah, Sarge, just to celebrate."
When they were in the living room with their beers, Brody gave Justin the present that they'd brought in from the car.
"Wow, Brode, this mitt's the best! But what am I supposed to do with it?"
"You are going to go out for baseball this spring. And you're going to make the team. When the coach sees how you play, you're a cinch for third base. Now, you gotta promise me you'll go out, okay?"
"Well . . . ."
"No, you gotta promise."
Justin grinned. "Oh, all right, I'll do it. And thanks for the mitt, man. It's great!" He gave Brody a hug and then promptly backed off.
As they sat with their feet on the coffee table, Brody couldn't help thinking how this scene contrasted with the elegance of the restaurant, its patrons, its staff and its food. He wondered if Justin was thinking the same thing.
"Adrian is amazingly hot, isn't he?"
"I have to tell you, Jus, he's the best looking man I've ever seen."
"Well, big guy, you're not exactly chopped liver yourself. I keep picturing the two of you getting it on. Man!"
"Justin!" Brody squawked.
Justin held up his hands. "Sorry, I can't help it. I'll just go home after a while and jack off to the image. But I won't talk about it any more, I promise."
"Please don't. You're embarrassing me."
"Okay, like I said. Besides, I want to tell you about this guy I've met."
Thanks to Drew and Mickey for encouragement and editorial assistance.
Emails are welcome at firstname.lastname@example.org. Please be sure to put the title of the story in the subject line so I'll know it isn't spam. Thanks. --Tim