Brian and Tommy

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.

2. I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.

Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com".

Brian lay on his back on the floor of his suite, his body slick and covered with sweat, his arms outstretched above his head because he was too exhausted to move them. His eyes fluttered as he drifted in and out of consciousness, fighting to stay awake as Tommy lay atop him, kissing and sucking at him wherever his mouth happened to land. Tommy's hands roamed possessively over him, caressing, massaging, stroking and pulling at his skin and muscle as Tommy licked the sweat off of him, raising more in the process. Brian had cum three times since running out of the elevator, and he felt a low throb of pain, not just in his balls but in his core. There was an ache inside him, a gnawing, as if he was losing something, but he couldn't seem to resist. His breathing was shallow, his pale chest barely rising, and he suddenly saw Tommy's eyes above him again as Tommy kissed him.

"Brian," Tommy whispered, tugging at Brian's lip with his teeth, kissing his mouth and then his cheeks and jaw and chin. "Brian, I love you."

"Tommy," Brian whimpered, unable to say anything else.

"No one else cares about you, Brian," Tommy whispered, his hands still crawling up and down Brian's body, trying to coax his spent cock back to life again. "I love you, Brian. I love you."

"Tommy," Brian whispered again, not sure what else to say, not sure if he loved Tommy, not sure of anything, really. He couldn't get control of his thoughts, couldn't seem to focus on anything besides Tommy, and how beautiful he was, how flawless and perfect.

"I want you, Brian, all of you," Tommy whispered, his hands on Brian's legs, lifting them and spreading them. "I love you."

"Yes," Brian sighed, feeling Tommy's cock pressing against his hole. "Tommy."

Brian was unable to say anything else because Tommy's mouth plastered down over his again as he felt Tommy's cock, long and hard, slam into him, splitting him open, impaling him. He cried out, his hands flying up to Tommy's cold, granite shoulders, but he didn't have the strength to push him away, and his yelp of shock was sucked into Tommy, strangled by his thick tongue. Tommy thrust into him again and again, his cock seemingly enormous but cold, like ice. Brian's hands dropped off of Tommy's shoulders, sliding down his arms as they fell to the floor, and Brian lay beneath him, limp, whimpering, as Tommy fucked him. When Tommy finally came, Brian felt it shooting into him, a wave of cold like glacial ice that seemed to radiate through him, numbing him, freezing him completely, and then he couldn't feel anything. Tommy lay on him, repeating again and again that he loved him, but Brian's eyes closed, and he was lost. Tommy began to thrust into him again.

"Oh, shit," Howie whispered, staring at the screen.

The face that stared back at him was flat, cold. A grainy haze of scanned pixels, but it was still, without doubt, the face he had seen in Brian's bathroom. He read the article slowly, not wanting to miss anything, and felt himself growing cold inside as he paged through each successive paragraph. Thomas O'Connor, described by friends as "a loner" and "a little down", had thrown himself off of the roof of the hotel on some chilly October evening, leaving a note on the ledge, pinned under a brick. He explained that he couldn't live a lie anymore, and that he knew he was gay but couldn't tell anyone, and couldn't deal with any of it. It was too close to what Brian was going through, and Howie had to look away for a second, trying to figure out what was going on.

Howie looked at the date and saw that it was over five years ago. He deleted all of the articles before that date, but that still left almost a dozen. He didn't intend to read them, figuring he already knew what he was dealing with, even if he wasn't sure he believed it, but when he clicked the article about Thomas closed he froze again. Now the face staring back at him from the screen was the man who had sat next to him at the bar. And he was dead, too.

"Oh my God," Howie whispered, clicking to the next article.

Another face stared back at him, and then another, and another. All guys, all young and sort of good looking. All of them, except Thomas, the first one, had been killed in accidental falls from the roof of the hotel over the last five years. Hotel management was at a loss to explain how they had gained access to the roof. In one case, workmen had left the access door unlocked. In another case, the roof door had been locked when investigators reached it, and the only reason they knew for sure he had come from there was that he'd fallen past the windows in the bar, in front of a cocktail party. All four of the dead men were out of town travelers, and had only been at the hotel for a day or two. Reading between the lines of the tragic statements from family and friends, Howie guessed that two of the men were gay, and was willing to bet the other two were as well.

"Thanks for all your help!" Howie called to the desk girl as he charged out of the library.

A picture was forming in his mind. He didn't have all of the pieces, but he had enough. He had to get back to the hotel, had to get to Brian, before it was too late. He pulled out his phone, trying Brian again, but both numbers just rang and rang.

Brian opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his suiteroom. He blinked and tried to raise his head, but the room spun, so he lay on his back for a second, trying to catch his breath. He realized with a start that he was dressed again, fully dressed, and he was alone. He lifted his hand, seeing it tremble, and noticed how pale he was, how white. His skin was like chalk, and he felt numb. He closed his eyes and remembered everything, remembered Tommy loving him, Tommy taking him again and again, filling him with his icy seed. Brian whimpered again, curling into the fetal position on his side. He felt cold inside, ice cold.

"Brian," Tommy sighed, near him.

Brian looked around, but didn't see him anywhere. He rolled onto his stomach, and began to raise himself with his arms, feeling them shake as he sucked in shallow little gasps of air. The room wavered, but held together, and he pulled himself to a sitting position, resting his back against the couch. He was alone. He could die in this room, and no one would come for him, because no one cared about him. No one.

"Brian," Tommy whispered. "Brian, I love you."

Tommy. Tommy loved him. All of his other friends had abandoned him, hadn't ever been here for him. Tommy had explained it all to him, whispering over and over as his hands crawled over Brian's body, mumbling it into Brian's ears as the two of them were locked together. Lee had left him, running away, leaving him alone. Howie claimed to be his friend, had come the other day and tried to make him leave, tried to pull him away from Tommy, but where was Howie now? And what about his other friends? His best friend Nick, who only cursed him? His friend AJ, who really wasn't friends with anyone, because he couldn't even be a friend to himself? Kevin, who claimed to love him, but really only wanted to keep him down, to keep him from ever being truly happy? Brian had no one, no one but Tommy.

"Brian, I love you," Tommy whispered again, and Brian felt a cold breeze ruffle through his hair.

Another voice whispered to Brian that this couldn't be true, couldn't possibly be real, and he pushed it away. He knew the truth. Only Tommy cared about him, only Tommy. Tommy loved him.

"Come to me, Brian," Tommy whispered, a ghostly hand sliding down Brian's cheek.

"Tommy," Brian sighed.

"Be with me Brian," Tommy whispered, ruffling Brian's hair again. Brian couldn't see him, but he could sense him, so close.

"Tommy," Brian whispered, feeling himself, his will to resist, slipping away.

"I love you, Brian," Tommy whispered again, pressing a phantom kiss softly, insubstantially, to Brian's lips. "Come to me."

Brian sighed, and used the couch to pull himself to his feet.

"Where?" Brian whispered, looking around.

"You know where," Tommy answered, his hands rolling over Brian's shoulders, trailing down his arms, seeming to pull him forward toward the door. "Upstairs."

"Yes," Brian whispered, feeling all the air rush out of the room. He was alone, and he needed to go upstairs to find Tommy.

Brian walked into the hallway, looking for the stairwell, not bothering to close the door of his suite behind him. He didn't need anything in there anyway.

"Is there another way we could go?" Howie asked, leaning forward to ask the cabbie again. They were stuck in traffic, because there had been some sort of pile up, and Howie felt like time was running out.

"Not now that we're stuck in here with all these cars," the cabby said, shrugging. Howie glanced out the window and saw that they were maybe a block from the hotel, and he fished out his wallet.

"Here," he said, throwing a handful of bills over the seat. It was more than enough.

Howie jumped out of the cab and began to sprint up the street. He had to hurry. He didn't know why, but he felt a clock ticking somewhere, and he prayed he wouldn't be too late.

Brian sat in the stairwell, trying to catch his breath. His waxen face was wet with sweat, his blond hair, now suddenly thin and limp, plastered to his white forehead. He was dizzy, and weak, and tried to think and figure out when this had happened to him. How had he gotten like this? Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. He needed help, and then he felt those cold fingers brush over his cheeks again, caressing his face before sliding away.

"Brian," Tommy whispered, his voice echoing in the stairwell. "Brian, come to me."

Tommy would help him. Tommy would take care of him. He'd be in Tommy's strong arms, and everything would be ok. Brian swallowed and grabbed the railing. Straining, he began to pull himself up the stairs again, knowing he'd find Tommy at the top, if he could go just a little further.

Howie charged into the lobby of the hotel, pushing through the revolving door as the doorman called out to him, asking if he needed assistance. Howie wasn't watching where he was going, really, just charging for the elevators as some sense inside him screamed that time was running out, and he collided with Nick, his face crashing into Nick's chest as the taller man stumbled back.

"Howie!" Nick wheezed, grabbing his shoulders.

"Not now," Howie said, stepping around him. Nick grabbed his arm as he thumbed the elevator button. "What?"

"Is Brian with you?" Nick asked, scanning the lobby behind Howie to see if Brian was following him.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be worried about him?" Howie snapped, wondering why the elevator was taking so long.

"Fuck you," Nick said absently, not even really seeming to mean it. "Kevin wanted to talk to him, and when we went to his room the door was open, but he was gone."

"What?" Howie asked, stabbing the button again with his finger. "When?"

"Like five minutes ago," Nick answered, shrugging. "Kevin told me to come down here and look for him, and to ask the desk if they saw him leave."

"Shit!" Howie whispered, sliding into the open elevator. If Brian wasn't in his room, he must be on his way to the roof.

"If you know where he is, you better tell Kevin," Nick said, holding the doors open with his hand. Howie slapped Nick's hand, hard, and Nick jerked it back, yelping.

"I'm not telling Kevin shit about Brian," Howie said, watching Nick hold his hand as the doors began to close. "Besides, Kevin already has you. He doesn't need another toady."

Howie paced around and around the inside of the elevator, willing it to go faster, praying it wouldn't stop at another floor. Against all the odds, it climbed steadily to the top level without stopping to pick up another passenger, and when it stopped at the top floor, Howie raced out, flying down the corridor as he searched for the roof door. It had to be here somewhere, it must be. When he rounded the corner, he saw a door standing open at the far end of the hall, and knew that had to be it. He charged for it, praying he wasn't too late.

"Come to me, Brian," Tommy whispered, shining and pure in front of him. He was standing with his arms out, in his white t-shirt and his jeans, his hair and face and bright blue eyes perfect, beckoning Brian toward him.

"Tommy," Brian said, smiling, reaching out for him. He stepped toward Tommy, but Tommy seemed to slide backward without moving, as if he was on wheels. Brian stepped toward him again, and Tommy slid backward again, the same distance that Brian had moved. "Tommy?"

"Be with me, Brian," Tommy said, still smiling, still beckoning. "Come to me. Love me."

"Yes," Brian sighed, stepping toward him again.

Howie stepped out of the stairway door and took it all in at once. Brian was walking slowly forward with his arms outstretched, and Thomas O'Connor was floating before him, beckoning him forward, leading him inexorably toward the edge of the roof. Brian's eyes were fixed on Thomas, who was staring at Brian with equal intensity. Howie didn't have time to ask what was happening, didn't have time to question what was going on between the two of them, or even to think about what to do. Neither of them had noticed him, and he got the distinct impression that he wasn't supposed to be here. He might as well make the most of it.

"Brian, I love you," Tommy said, grinning, his pink lips stretched invitingly across his perfect teeth. "I love you. Be with me."

"Yes," Brian answered, stepping forward again.

"No!" Howie yelled, tackling Brian from the side.

They spilled to the roof, rolling across it as Howie held Brian tightly. Brian blinked, as if waking up, and stared at Howie in confusion.

"Howie?" Brian asked. "What?"

"No!" Tommy yelled, cutting him off.

Howie felt Tommy's cold hands running over them, reaching around him toward Brian, and he kept himself stretched across Brian's chest, between the two of them, as he rolled over to see where Tommy was. Tommy loomed above them, and Howie glared up at him defiantly. He had no idea how this was possible, how Tommy could be here, but he wasn't giving up Brian without a fight.

"Back off!" Howie yelled.

"He's mine!" Tommy yelled in frustration. "I love him!"

"No you don't," Howie snapped, glaring at him.

"Yes he does," Brian said from behind him. His voice was weak and shaking. "Howie, leave us alone."

"Brian, he doesn't love you," Howie said, keeping his eyes on Tommy. He could feel Brian's chest rising and falling against his back, and he shifted a little, staying on top of him, but making sure he wasn't crushing him. "He doesn't care about you."

"Neither do you," Brian said, as Tommy glared at them in frustration.

Howie remembered what he had been told, what the man in the bar had shared with him. The truth could save Brian.

"Brian, I do care about you," Howie said. "I always have. You're a good person, caught in a bad situation."

"He's lying!" Tommy protested. Howie realized that Tommy couldn't just grab Brian, or he would have by now. "He's never cared about you, Brian! No one does but me! Come to me, Brian! Love me!"

"Yes!" Brian said, struggling, trying to move Howie off of him.

"No," Howie said firmly. "Brian, there are things about me you don't know. I never spoke up for you, never said anything when you came out to us, because I was afraid. I saw what the other guys did to you, and I didn't say anything, because I was afraid of their reaction."

"I don't believe you," Brian said weakly, looking past Howie to Tommy. Tommy loved him, not Howie.

"It's the truth, Brian," Howie said, wishing he'd said all of this a long time ago. If he had, they might not be here now, might not be fighting for Brian's life. "I was afraid of their reaction because I was afraid of what they'd do to me."

"Why?" Brian asked, although he thought he knew. He'd always wondered, but Howie was so closed off from the others, so private all the time.

"Because you're not the only gay guy in the band, Brian," Howie answered quietly.

"No! No!" Tommy yelped, his face twisting.

"What?" Brian asked, turning finally to Howie now. Howie looked at him, a little guilty, but still right into Brian's eyes.

"I never said anything, because I saw how they treated you, and I didn't want them to do it to me, too," Howie said quietly. "It was selfish, and it caused you a lot of pain. I did it because I was afraid, and I didn't want them to do the same thing to me that they did to you. I didn't want to be another one of the band's dirty secrets, and I didn't want to let them force me into living a lie."

"Don't listen to him, Brian!" Tommy said. "He doesn't care! I love you! Only I do!"

"Tommy?" Brian said, torn now. He wanted to listen to Howie, but he still wanted Tommy. He knew he couldn't have both.

"He lies, Brian," Howie said, pulling Brian to his feet. Howie faced Brian, staring into his eyes. "He lies."

"Brian, no," Tommy pleaded, leaning over Howie's shoulder. "Brian, I love you, only you."

"That's his lie, Brian," Howie said, shaking his head.

"No, he doesn't lie to me!" Brian said, shaking his head, tears standing in his eyes. "He helped me!"

"No, it looked like he helped you," Howie clarified. "What did he do, Brian? Did he save you? Leighanne said you were up here. What were you doing?"

"Don't listen to him!" Tommy pleaded. "He doesn't care!"

Howie took Brian's face in his hands, cupping it gently. He noticed again how pale Brian looked, and how weak, like he was ready to drop at any second.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't care, Brian," Howie said, keeping Brian's eyes locked on his. "It's ok, Brian. It hurts, but it's never going to get any better if you don't let it out. Please, Brian, please tell me."

"I was going to jump," Brian said, looking down as tears spilled down his cheeks. Howie felt tears flood his own eyes as well. "I can't do this anymore, Howie. I can't live like this, in this box. Everything I do hurts everyone else, and what they want just hurts me, and I was going to just end it, end everyone's pain. I was going to jump, and Tommy stopped me. He saved me."

"Yes!" Tommy said, his arms on Howie's shoulders, trying to pull him away. Howie kept his hands on Brian, refusing to be moved. "Brian, I love you."

"He doesn't love you, Brian," Howie said. "I know it hurts, but he doesn't love you. He only saved you for himself."

"No," Brian said, shaking his head. "No, you're lying. You have to be. Tommy loves me."

"Yes!" Tommy said, reaching around Howie for Brian. Howie slapped his hand away. "I love you!"

"Brian, he's dead," Howie said. "He died. He jumped off of this hotel. If you go with him, you'll die, too. If you choose him, you choose death, Brian."

"It doesn't matter," Brian said, shaking his head. "He loves me, and that's all that matters. No one else does."

"I love you, Brian, and Leighanne loves you, too," Howie said. "Let him go, and he'll let you go, Brian."

"He's lying, Brian!" Tommy yelled again, sensing that he was losing, that Brian was slipping away. "I love you, and only you!"

"Yes!" Brian said, reaching out for Tommy.

"No," Howie said, pushing Brian back. "He doesn't love you, Brian. There are others, other guys. He's lured them up here, too. They've all gone to him, and they're all dead."

"No," Brian said, looking at Tommy. "No."

"Yes," they heard from behind them. All three of them turned to see another man stepping out of the shadows. "He lies, Brian."

"No!" Tommy said, stepping backward as the man stepped forward.

"He lies, Brian," said another man, sliding out of darkness from another corner of the roof.

"He loves me," Brian said weakly, dropping to his knees.

"No," a third man said, also stepping out of nowhere.

"He lies, Brian," said the last man, the one Howie had spoken to in the bar. "He lies."

"Let him go, Brian," Howie said, dropping to his knees next to Brian, wrapping his arms around him. "Turn away and let him go."

Tommy shrank back from the advancing phantoms as they stepped toward him, holding his arms out in front of him, his face etched with fear. As they walked closer and closer, driving him back toward the edge, they became more and more solid, thickening, becoming more substantial. Tommy shook his head back and forth in violent denial, his eyes flicking from one to the next as they walked toward him.

"Brian!" Tommy said, flinging his arms out toward him as the four of them grabbed him and began dragging him backward toward the edge of the roof. "Brian! Help me!"

Brian looked at Tommy, at the fear in his eyes as he slid away from him, and realized that, at the center of it, that was all Tommy had to offer. Fear. All he could do was take. He could never love Brian, not really. Maybe once, maybe when he was alive, but now, he was something else, something that remembered love, remembered life, but that was all. Tommy screamed, and Brian felt Howie's arms tighten around him, felt Howie's warm breath on his cheek as Howie held him fiercely, pressing him to his chest. Brian felt Howie's tears, tears for him, wet against his cheek.

"Brian!" Tommy shrieked, still reaching out as the five of them tumbled over the edge of the roof.

"No," Brian whispered, and then slumped against Howie.

Howie felt Brian go limp and pulled him back. Brian was pale, and still, and slid out of Howie's arms, dropping to the roof. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open a little, but he wasn't breathing.

"Brian?" Howie said, shaking him, blinking more tears out of his eyes. "Brian? Brian! No! No!"

Howie stopped shaking him, feeling for a pulse, wishing he knew CPR. Brian couldn't die, not now, not when they were so close to the truth. Brian couldn't die without hearing the last thing Howie hadn't told him.

"No!" Howie said again, tears streaming down his face now. He threw his head back, screaming, pulling Brian to his chest. "Brian!"

"Your friend is dying, Howie," the man from the bar said behind him.

"No!" Howie protested, shaking his head. "He can't, not now, not like this!"

"He gave too much," the man said sadly, looking down. "Tommy took too much from him. Brian gave generously, freely, and now there's nothing left."

"No!" Howie said. He pressed Brian's head to his chest, praying he'd breathe, praying that he'd see those blue eyes open again. "No, there has to be a way to save him! There has to be a way! It's not fair, not like this!"

"You already know how to save him," the man said, stepping away. Howie realized that he could see the lights of the city through him now, that he was dissolving before his eyes. "Tell him the truth."

The man was gone.

Howie looked down into Brian's face, blinking back his tears, his eyes following the contours he knew so well. Tell him the truth? OK.

"I love you, Brian," Howie whispered, tilting Brian's head back. "I love you."

Howie leaned down, pressing his warm, soft lips to Brian's cold ones, cradling Brian's face in his hands. He kissed Brian, closing his eyes, and his love for him surged through him. Howie had always loved Brian, loved him from the minute he saw him. Howie loved him for being so pure, and so goodhearted, for believing the best about everyone, no matter what they did to him. Howie loved him for being so kind, and for being so brave, for trying to be who he was no matter how much it hurt. More than anything else, Howie loved him just for being himself. He loved Brian for being Brian, and there were no other words that could explain it.

A blast of cold air swirled around them as they knelt on the roof. Howie felt a jolt run through him, a humming vibration. He felt like something inside of his was swelling, growing, spilling over into Brian, and then he felt Brian move. Brian's lips, cold and limp, pressed against Howie's firmly. Brian's hands came up, clutching at Howie's shoulders. Another jolt ran through them, and Howie's eyes popped open to see Brian's staring up into his, warm and open, and Howie saw himself reflected in them, staring back. He pulled back, hearing Brian suck in a long, loud breath.

"Howie?" Brian asked quietly, blinking.

"I love you, Brian," Howie whispered. Brian's hand came up, gently brushing some hair back off of Howie's forehead. "I love you."

Brian looked up at him, into Howie's brown eyes, staring at his open face. Howie loved him. Brian leaned forward, and kissed Howie, a long, slow kiss.

"I love you, too."

The End!