Date: Sun, 28 Nov 2004 20:23:54 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: The New Year 14

DISCLAIMER
==========

This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2004 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:

- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,

- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,

- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.

And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002


Just when I thought we couldn't possibly get any better, he exceeded
himself. Nobody does it better. And wouldn't the bastard be pleased to
note the flattering comparison to one of his personal childhood heroes,
James Bond.

Didn't it figure with a man as contrary as James Sung that the best sex
happened when he was pissed-out drunk and insanely furious - and
regrettably, actually fucked me in lieu of beating the crap out of me.
Surrendering seemed like a wimpy thing for me to do but at that time,
having a mind-blowing orgasm certainly seemed preferable to getting his
fist in my eye. Apparently the rules we learnt in school didn't hold true
for James Sung. Imbibing insane amounts of alcohol didn't make him wilt
and whimper, it only made him harder... and like the proverbial Energizer
Bunny, he'd proven clearly enough last night, he could go on... and on...

God, he'd gone out drinking. I was a fool just to have let him go out
alone. Instead of patching things up with Sutton Burbridge, I should have
just leapt onto the back of his ride and damned them all to hell. Perhaps
I should have reconsidered my foolish notion of waiting for him and gone
out to search instead of waiting at home like a helpless, whimpering
housefrau. Not only had I tidied up, I'd fallen asleep on his bed. Little
wonder that James had returned in a snit.

It was useless thinking of what I should have done since there was
nothing I could do to change them. Thankfully, the raging fury seemed to
have passed in the night and right now, he sat by the bay window, his
broad, beautiful back to me. Still a little groggy, I'd woken up a few
minutes ago and found him sitting there. The light drizzle earlier this
morning explained the reason why he was in the bedroom and not out for
his usual morning run, part of his post rehab regimen. After our
altercations last night, there were still words unspoken between us but I
hesitated over breaking the silence and remained silent just content to
watch him. After all, James Sung was a wonderfully watchable man. The
bastard was gorgeous and damned if he didn't know it.

As if realizing that he was being watched - though ogled seemed a more
apt description for what I was doing, he slowly shifted his head to
glance back at me. "You're awake." There was a shy, almost tentative
smile on his face.

"James." Sitting quietly by the bay windows, he made a perfect picture
and I could easily see why James was such a favourite with the
advertising agencies. As cliched as it was, the cameras simply loved him.
The cold fingers of the morning sun found their way through the windows
to play across his high cheekbones and the sculpted contours of his
gorgeous face as he sat there with his face in profile.

Quiet and solemn, his handsome face looked almost haunted, a look that
I'd never seen before on him. Turning from his silent contemplation of
the view, he looked at me, a note of caution in his beautiful dark brown
eyes as he tried unsuccessfully for a smile. "Already having some plans
in your head this early in the morning?"

Ouch. Talk about an accusation. Although his words were spoken casually,
there was a hard edge to them that belied the light smile. After what had
just happened, it wasn't so difficult guessing where the train of his
thoughts were headed. It would have been so much easier to avoid the
problem and to dwell in the idyllic morning but that wasn't my way. There
would be no dilly-dallying over the matter for me. "Look, I never meant
to keep it from you. A few months ago, I received the confirmation and I
always meant to tell you about your father..."

"Sutton? You think I'd get this mad at the son of a bitch who calls
himself my father?" Shifting to face me fully, he finally managed a
rueful little smile. "Well, maybe a little."

His feelings on the subject were well known to all of us who knew him.
Bringing up his father was a sure way to light a fuse for him. It wasn't
all that difficult trying to guess who was next on his current hate list.
"If not your father, then at me then?"

Slowly unfurling himself from the bay window seat, he stood up. "And you
got it right at the first shot. I knew you were a smart guy, Johnny boy."

James walked casually over to the bed, dressed only in his white Calvin
Kleins. Since he never bothered about clothes otherwise, I figured the
skimpy briefs were a sop for my old-fashioned conservatism. Some guys
look awkward, unfinished, oddly out-of-place without their clothes, for
instance me. Dressing only in my underwear made me look... plain weird,
and it was rare indeed that I went to bed without my striped pyjamas.
James Sung obviously wasn't one of their number. Long-limbed, perfectly
muscled and innately graceful, he looked like he'd just walked off the
pages of those glossy underwear ads that made me dream of tearing the
briefs off the man. He was made to wear designer underwear, obscenely low
at his slim hips and baring just a hint of dark curls at the designer
waistband, tight enough to display his ample package temptingly at the
forefront and caress the tight globes of his bubble butt at the back.

Damn the man. Hard enough concentrating on his words with that gorgeous
face and he had to go ahead and distract me more with his bared torso.

"I was mad at you. Almost insanely, murderously angry. Felt like
strangling you, and I probably should have." Releasing a soft sigh, he
sat himself down at the edge of the bed, gently playing with the short
tassels of the Chinese silk bedspread.

"I wouldn't recommend such a move since something tells me you'd probably
be the main suspect." Keeping a cautious eye on him from my end of the
bed, I laughed nervously. Those hands looked large enough to put his
threat into effect easily enough. Sure, he might not kill me but that
didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy putting some serious bruises on me. That
awesome black temper of his had led him down some of the more dangerous
paths in his life but I hoped that maturity would have taught him some
control.

"I wouldn't be the only suspect." Watching me carefully, he lfted one
dark eyebrow. "Don't count out the rest of the family."

"Hey," I replied, indignant. Sure, I had meddled in some affairs that
didn't directly concern me and I'd certainly poked my nose in where I
wasn't invited but that didn't mean everyone hated me. Did it?

"Deny it all you want. It's the truth, John." Drawing up his leg on the
bed, he rested his chin on his knee and sat quietly. Sitting quietly and
talking wasn't one of the ways the old James resolved a problem and it
amazed me that he hadn't ranted, raged and thrown things about as he once
did. An unfortunate by-product of his upbringing in his dramatic
household, James and his murderous rages were legend in the family.
Rather than looking for a calm, logical solution to the proverbial
Gordian knot, he was more likely to hack it in half.

The old raging James certainly wasn't this cool-eyed man who watched me
silently. Lifting his gaze back to mine, he said softly. "I was angry
because I trusted you. You're the one person I completely trust in this
world, John. Not my parents, not the grandparents, not even some of my
so-called friends," James answered simply. "And it hurt me deeply that
you lied to me."

For once, perhaps an impulsive rage would have suited me far better than
this civilized conversation. A quick, right-arm punch to my face would
certainly have hurt less than the pained look in his dark, speaking eyes.
"I don't know what you want me to say but I'm sorry, James."

"I know that." For a brief moment, his dark brown eyes searched mine as
if looking for something. Almost as if by magic, the cloudy moodiness in
his eyes lifted as easily and he grinned now easily. Like sunshine
peeking around a cloud, James' cocky grin was all but irresistible. "And
you don't have to. It took me a while - well, Leela helped by knocking
some sense into me too - but I came to realize that you wouldn't have
planned and schemed if you didn't love me. You might not see it but the
poor buggers you hate don't really matter all that much to you. As long
as they stay far away from you, you couldn't give a fucking rat's ass
about them. But for the rest of us... the ones you love, the ones you're
attached to, you just can't keep your hands off, can you? Even our
darling Jackie." Thinking of some incident that obviously amused him - no
doubt an occasion that involved our tempestuous cousin Jackie's frequent
tirades, James smiled reminiscently. "It's a little difficult to blame
you for something I'd have done myself if our positions were reversed.
There's certainly no way I'd have just stood by wringing my hands
helplessly if I saw something that concerns you."

His reviews on my meddling performance were phrased in better terms than
what I was normally used to. Usually Aunt Mary treated me to an hour long
diatribe consisting of impassioned vulgarities, improbable positions for
me and some poorly aimed projectiles. Thank God she hadn't thrown any
wildly extravagant sprees lately.

Feeling that I was almost out of the doghouse, I started getting off my
perch on the bed but he pinned me to my seat with a scathing glance.
"However, that doesn't mean I liked being played for a fool. Man, you
just drive me crazy insane and I wanted to hurt you so badly."

Hurt me? Last night, the one thing he hurt was probably my ego probably,
which some of my siblings would claim was large enough that a dent
wouldn't make a difference. "James."

"Don't say anything. I don't think you could possibly comprehend just how
much power you have over me, John. I never imagined that I could love
someone this much." He looked down again at his feet again, a wistful
look on his face. "And even just one damned look from you would have
me..."

For a brief moment, I was too stunned to speak. Eventhough he'd told me
pretty much the same before, I'd never believed it before. It had never
occurred to me that 'damn it all' James Sung needed validation from
anyone and the very idea that my opinion could matter that much to a guy
like him staggered me.

It had taken a while for me to come out of the closet, even to myself.
Debunking every notion of sexuality and masculinity that had been drummed
into me since childhood wasn't something to be taken lightly and it had
taken me almost twice the time to start going out on dates. With men.
Although I had kept my eyes discreetly peeled for that special someone, I
had yet to find a man that I could live with for the rest of my life.
Unlike some of the other men my age, I wasn't looking for something brief
and temporary, something that would only satisfy the lusts of my flesh. I
wanted someone to show me the love and devotion that my parents shared,
some that had lasted for more than three decades. Obviously back then, I
hadn't been sharp enough to see what was right in front of me all along.

"Fucking bastard, that's what I am," James cursed himself in
self-chastisement. Dropping his protective stance, he stated crawling on
the bed closer to me and he spoke softly, his eyes shuttered. "John, tell
me, did I... did I hurt you last night?"

"No." Hurt me? If what he did last night was what he called hurt, I was
all ready to sign up for more. Just recalling the events of last night
had my nerves all revved up, just waiting for him to pounce on me again.
There were marks of my own abuse on his perfect form, light red bites on
his well-muscled thigh, a scratch mark forming over the swell of his hard
pecs.

"I don't know what happened last night." A shade of embarassment crossed
his dark, handsome features. "I couldn't control myself... I just wanted
to.."

There were faint bruises on my own arms caused by his lack of control,
they would surely fade away soon enough - these sweet badges of courage -
but I doubt the memory of last night would ever disappear. Something that
hot, uninhibited and wild would certainly have seared its way into my
uncensored memory banks. James Burbridge Sung might have started out
eager to mete out punishment but his half-crazed intentions had certainly
changed mid-way. The heartfelt kisses he'd given me, the way he'd held me
close afterward as we'd drifted off, everything he did last night hadn't
been the act of a man in rage.

Anyway, who was I kidding? James never needed to steal what I'd have
given him easily enough. He could have been twice as angry and three
times as drunk, and I'd still have been a willing accomplice. "If I ask
really nicely, can we do it again, pretty please?"

"Slut." It was said without a hint of malice and I smiled. Turning to
glance at me, he offered a grin in return. "I love you, John."

It wasn't the first time he'd admitted his feelings to me and the memory
of the first time remained as clear to me as when it had first happened
so many months ago. Almost a year ago and yet I could recall the faint
hint of wine chicken on his lips, the earnest look in his brown eyes, the
way his lips had moved as he'd stunned me with the words. Each time he
reminded me after that incident, I started finding it easier to accept
without blanching. Falling in love was sweet enough but it was a million
times better to be loved in return.

I knew how difficult it was for him to say those words. That trait
certainly never came from his parents, a mother who indulged in
histrionics and a father who indulged in other dalliances. Coming from a
family like his, it wouldn't be easy admitting his feelings and yet the
words tumbled out from his mouth so very easily.

"Enough to meet your father?" Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut
but I had to at least try. At the moment, James seemed contrite enough to
listen without prejudice.

"My father?" At first a little surprised by the sudden change of subject,
James pulled back slowly and eyed me carefully. Tactless, that was me, I
might as well have slammed him in the groin with a sledgehammer. There
was more than a little hint of betrayal in his voice when he finally
found his voice. "You're really pushing it, John."

There was more than a little touch of amusement in his voice and none of
the anger that had characterized him earlier. That was certainly a relief
since I didn't have it in me to go another round with him. "I'm not
saying you didn't have shitty childhood and I certainly understand your
anger but he's still your father, James. He.."

"Just when you've got me in the mood. Damn, you're got the knack for
spoiling the moment." Reaching to pull me forward, he kissed me softly on
the lips. "Just shut up."

"Kissing me isn't going to shut.." It was only a token protest since
damn, who knew those clever lips could still find some new moves. Sliding
skilfully across mine, his warm, wet tongue darted in between my lips to
tangle with mine. After last night's workout, I'd imagined that my libido
would have been satisfied for weeks to come but as soon as his lips met
mine, I could feel the blood draining down into my groin again. The
slightly amused gleam in his chocolate brown eyes turned to desire as he
nudged me back onto the mattress, covering me with his weight and his
heat. Very soon, I was just going to drop the charges and just damn his
father to hell.

Not content to ravish my lips, his gifted hands started creeping their
way down my stomach searching for their Eldorado. As his thumb played
with my waistband, I drew in a deep, fortifying breath. Pleased that he'd
finally made his point, James pulled apart enough to whisper into my ear,
a hint of prim laughter in his deep voice. "So that didn't work, huh?"

The obvious erection bursting in my pants certainly told him my answer
loudly enough but weak-willed as I was, I still managed to hold on to his
intrepid fingers before they could delve inside my pyjama pants. "James."

Easing out of my weakening hold, his hands moved to the sides instead,
sliding up the edge of my hipbones. Wicked brown eyes watched me quietly.
"You want to make something of this?"

"Let's cut a deal." That was the best I could come up with with his
magical fingers at the waistband of my pants. After this, Sutton was on
his own. It was all I could to keep my hands from reaching out to draw
James close.

Sighing, he rested his forehead against mine. "Jesus, you do know you're
making a deal with your boyfriend?"

It was the first time he'd said it and I shivered. Boyfriend. Such a
silly word, a word used by giggling sophomoric schoolgirls to describe
the long-haired rebels who waited in their motorcycles. Who'd have
guessed that I would like the sound of it. At that moment, I felt like
leaping up on the bed to announce the fact to the world but I had more
urgent matters to attend to. "Yeah. Just say you'll think about it."

Finally giving in with a defeated sigh, James gave a short shrug. "Fine.
For you, I'll think about it. Now can we get back to this?" As I gave him
a brief nod, his hands finally slipped down my waistband and this time I
didn't make a single protest.