Finish Something

Finish Something 7 Finale

Please donate to this noble cause:

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Please respect copyright.

I just realized that a very sub-character in this story (this chapter and chapter 5) has the same name -- Stuart -- as the main character in my other story To Places Unknown. Sorry for the confusion if you happen to be reading both!

I got a call from Tim a while after we got back to Toronto. He wanted to tell me that he had contacted Marcel and had told him he wanted to try again, and that they had had an intense evening together, mostly in bed.

While I was happy for him, reconnecting with someone he had been together with for a while, I also realized there was a part of me that was uncomfortable. Was I jealous? Why would that be? It didn't make any sense. I was so happy with James, so pleased that we had solidified something between us and we realized we could count on each other.

But the shadow of history, I think, cast a shadow on my feelings. I told James, partly because I felt guilty, but partly because he was the person I could tell anything to.

He looked pensive, but not fussed, when I told him. "I think I get it. Tim was the first guy you ever fell for and seeing him again -- having sex with him again -- probably stirred all that up. Now he's discovered the thing you and I discovered: we were kind of in love with someone and we didn't really get it."

I looked at him, thinking. We were lying in bed after a day of work. My head was on his chest and he was stroking my hair. He was right, of course. But it didn't change the fact that I was a little jealous. That somehow my fantasy at age nineteen was still happening in the present and that he had dumped me -- again -- for someone who was better than me, more experienced than me, more sexy than me. I knew it was all crap, especially given that I was lying in bed with an amazing, sensual, relaxed person who I had known for a long time. However, those parts of us don't go away quickly, or at all.

As if reading my mind, James kissed my forehead and said, "But you feel weird about it, don't you. It makes sense." He kissed my forehead again. "Maybe we should find a way to exorcise this ghost."

I turned and looked up into his face. "Ghost...?"

"You know, the past. The past version of you with him."

I liked the way he put it and it seemed to calm me down. "Tell me more."

I could tell his lawyer brain was thinking. "Well...what if we find a way for you to spend some time with Marcel. Just the two of you. Maybe I can spend some time with Tim, just for fun."

"How would that 'exorcise' something?" I was intrigued.

"I'm not exactly sure, but maybe if you find out what he's like, then maybe it will calm your anxieties and make it all...well I guess, real. Rather than this old story that runs in your head."

I liked thinking about it as an old story. That needed to be updated. "You know, I think you're on to something. You won't mind if...well...you know."

He laughed and slid his leg over mine, sliding his -- as I became aware -- hard cock into mine, slowly thrusting forward into me. "I want to hear all the details. Tastes, smells, all of it."

I laughed and we kissed, and I wrapped my arms around his torso as we ground into each other. I was feeling especially aroused that evening, and could tell I wanted something, but wasn't sure what yet. I pulled away for a second and looked into James' face. "What shall we do....what shall we do..."

He laughed and jammed his tongue into my mouth, then he sat up, stroking his cock almost absently. "How about you lie down on the bed with your head here." He pointed to the end. "And I'll fuck your face for a while. Sound good?"

It was the kind of thing I was hungry for. I felt almost reckless, so I did just that. My head was leaning back, and he got off the bed and positioned himself with his balls on my forehead. It felt odd to have them draped there, hot and slightly prickly. Then I opened my mouth and he pulled me a little farther so my head was bent back. He held me in both hands and slid himself into my mouth. "You should take a deep breath."

Without any warning, he started to thrust forward into my mouth. At first he only went halfway in, but as he got excited and gripped my head more firmly, he started to drive his whole cock in, right to the back of my throat. Somehow -- from trust, or relaxation -- I managed to take it and I didn't gag. I loved the feel of the length of him over my tongue.

It was true, I couldn't quite breathe, but I didn't care. Even though it felt like he was in control of me, it could only happen because we trusted each other. From long experience and recent vulnerability, I knew I was safe. So I let go, and he drove into me, as if he was really fucking me, except this was my mouth, not my asshole. My hand was on my own hardness, stroking in time with his length going down my throat.

I needed a real breath, so I pushed him out for a second, still stroking my cock, then he slid back in and resumed. It was not going to last and I could tell he was going to unload himself really soon. I pumped faster and faster, and his thrusts became, if possible, even deeper. I could hear his breathing above me and his hands on my head and face were getting sweaty. I could feel heat in my face and a line of saliva running from my mouth onto the bed.

I looked up into his face which seemed so intense as to be in pain. A low choking cry came out of his mouth that increased in volume until he threw his head back and gasped. I felt burst of cum into my mouth, sliding to my throat. Upside down it was hard to swallow, but I just relaxed and let it flow.

My hand on myself must have been a blur and I exploded almost before I knew it was coming, arching my back and a wave of tingling pleasure went through my body.

James slid his dick from my mouth, and leaned down to kiss me. He kissed my mouth, my chin, he licked the liquid that was running down my cheeks, he bent forward and lapped up some of my cum then collapsed to the side onto the bed.

I woke up a while later, still in the same position. James was as well, his face tucked into my side, snoring quietly.

"Hey..." and I nudged him with my knee "We should get into bed."

He groaned, but got up and climbed under the covers, and I followed him, wrapping myself around him. I heard his voice.

"So...Montreal. We should go for a visit and see what happens."

I was surprised, realizing he had been thinking about all of that despite the exertions. "Yeah. I suppose you're right. Let's call it an exorcism."

I felt him chuckle into my neck. "That's a good word."

We lay for a while, not saying anything, as night took us into sleep.

We got off the train in Montreal    a few weeks later and I felt nervous. In some ways it was obvious why, but I was surprised at how nervous I was. I suppose it was due to the fact that I wasn't sure what was going to happen.

James and I stood in the main hall of the station looking for Tim, who finally appeared with a tall, dark-haired guy I assumed was Marcel. I could see why Tim had been drawn to him. He had a quiet, contained mystery about him that hinted at hidden energy.

Tim opened his arms and pulled me in for a hug, kissing my cheeks. I stepped back and looked into his face, the face of my youth, I realized. I could feel the same zing of excitement and the sense of possibility as if the years had not passed, and I was not standing beside the man who I really wanted to be with.

"Hello, I'm Marcel."

I turned and looked into dark brown eyes and a half-smile. It was as if he knew what was going on in my head. "Hello! I'm so glad to finally meet you."

I leaned in to kiss him a la quebecois. I smelled a warm spiciness on him that was both cologne and something personal, almost primal.

James shook his hand after I leaned back. The four of us looked at each other and the awkwardness almost made me babble random words in order to fill the silence.

Finally, Tim said, "Let's get home and have some lunch."

Once we were settled in Tim's apartment, had lunch and a glass of wine, the four of us sat in his living room. The tension had abated and I felt I could talk more freely. James was sitting across from me on a chair, and Marcel was beside me. Tim sat on a chair beside James. I wondered at this. It didn't feel deliberate, but somehow it felt meaningful.

I turned to Marcel. "Tell me about yourself."

Marcel put his wine down on the table in front of him. "What would you like to know?"

"Oh...where you live, what you do for a living..."

"Well...as of last week, I live here."

That surprised me. Tim hadn't said a word. "Congratulations!" And I looked at Tim who seemed, I think, uncomfortable, which in a way felt satisfying.

"Thanks. We've known each other a long time, so we thought...what the heck? And you live with James?"

I knew this was coming. "Well...we agree in theory, but we haven't done it yet."

James smiled at me warmly. I knew he was happy that I spoke openly about it.

Marcel nodded. "It's a big step." He looked across at Tim for a moment. "Do you want to get some ice cream for tonight?"

Tim almost looked surprised, but then quickly said, "Sure. Good idea." He turned to James. "Why don't you come with? I can show you the neighbourhood."

All this talking in code was actually annoying me, but I decided it was worth it not to articulate the underground meanings flying around the room. Tom got up and James followed. As he passed me, he ran his hand through my hair almost playfully. Nothing more was said until the two left the apartment.

I looked at Marcel, feeling really awkward. "So...I guess you want to talk with me alone?"

"Something like that." He stopped and just looked at me, coolly.

"What's on your mind?"

"It's on Tim's mind, actually. He still has a thing for you...is that how you say it in English: a thing?"

"Yeah. It is. And I suppose a little part of me still has one for him."

"Interesting. But you're with James and you love him?"

"Oh completely. This is more like an artifact from the past that won't go away. Make sense?"

"I suppose. So tell me about the past." But instead of waiting for me to answer, he slid forward on the sofa until our thighs met. He slid his hand between my legs and started to rub my crotch. He was just looking at me.

"Is this your way of listening?"

"If you like."

He leaned in and our lips met and I was immediately struck by the intensity of his kiss, by the almost rapacious hunger in his tongue. I was startled and amazingly turned on at the same time. As our mouths moved together, he pulled up my shirt and began to pinch my nipples, then licking his way down my neck. He fastened his mouth to one nipple, almost biting it and at the same time, sliding his hand in my pants, grasping my already rigid cock. I undid the fly to give him better access. He sat up and put his hand on my bare chest and pushed me back.

I lay there looking up at him, almost surprised and even a little afraid. His eyes were boring into mine as he undid his pants and slid them down. The head of his cock was sticking out of his underwear and he almost impatiently yanked them off. On his knees, he slid forward and began to rub his cock all over my face. His smell was strong and animal and I could taste his sweat when he rubbed his hardness against my lips and tongue as I tried to lick it as it went by.

I felt the head pushing at my lips and I opened my mouth and, without any hesitation, he slid into me, immediately fucking my mouth as he braced himself on the arm of the sofa. He had propped himself up so that he could thrust into my mouth more easily. I gagged a few times and tried to push him off, but only half-heartedly because I was also blazing with lust and finally I just let him move into me repeatedly. I could taste his precum on my tongue.

With a few more intense movements, he pulled out of my mouth. He shifted back and pulled my pants all the way off and tossed them across the room. He almost tore my underwear off me, and threw it behind him, grabbing my dick in one hand and pumping it a few times. He looked up into my face, an almost devilish grin on his face. "I want to fuck you really bad."

"No complaints here." I was getting really excited at the prospect of this guy I had only heard about, taking me so aggressively right here on the sofa. He leaned back with his cock in his hand and spit on it a few times. "I'm not going to use lube, ok?"

I nodded. James and I had done that on the wilder nights we had, and this moment felt wild. He spit a few more times into his hand and jammed his fingers into me, giving me just enough -- I imagined -- lubricant. He grabbed my legs and pulled them up under my knees and then leaned forward so his cock was pushing at my ass, continuing to lean forward so his weight pushed his cock all the way in, almost too quickly.

I was ready to be pummelled, but he stopped and looked at me for a moment. "This ok?"

I was grateful for the thought, but in answer I grabbed his ass and pushed him deeper into me, just smiling up at him. He didn't need any other sign, and with a moan, he started to go, and fast. It was almost painful. I felt as if I was being told something, or punished for something, but I wasn't sure for what. I suppose I didn't in that moment really care. Over and over his cock impaled me. It's the only word I could think of. I was being pinned by his length. He leaned down a few times and we sloppily tried to kiss, but it didn't really matter. It wasn't about that.

Harder and harder his thrusts continued and the sofa was almost moving across the floor. He looked down at me intently and it felt like it was a strange business deal we were negotiated and he was going to come out the winner.

I realized I was right on the edge of coming, or crying out in pain or both. But at that moment, the apartment door opened, and James walked in with Tim behind him. I expected this, I realized. It must have been on all of our minds.

James walked over and stood beside the sofa, watching. His face was still, but there was the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth that I was very familiar with. I became even more excited, because I knew something was going to happen.

As he stood there watching us, I could see him massaging his cock through his jeans. Then he pulled his t-shirt off and threw it on the ground, then undid his jeans and slid them down. He was wearing black briefs that seemed to be appropriate to his moment, somehow. He pulled them off and threw them at Tim, who caught them, surprised. He was standing there, his beautiful body on display. He limbs were lean and his chest smooth and trimmed. His cock was rigid and wet at the end. I could tell James was really turned on because his cheeks were flushed and his eyes unfocused.

He turned to Tim. "Suck me. I want to be nice and wet."

I knew when James gave orders they were not to be ignored. Tim knelt down in front of him and swallowed his cock. James grabbed his head and thrust into his face a few times. I looked up at Marcel    as his length kept stretching me, it seemed, and he was watching James. He face was still and I could tell he was waiting to see what was going to happen. I knew, right them, what it was.

James almost jumped onto the sofa behind Marcel and grabbed him by the waist. He spit into his hand    and, holding Marcel still for a moment, lubed his ass. Marcel looked behind him with a question, but didn't say anything, but I could tell he was not entirely comfortable.

James pulled Marcel's face to him and kissed him a few times. "It's only fair. You fuck him..." and the rest of the sentence was obvious. Marcel didn't look happy but not unhappy, but at the same time he didn't move or speak. He just waited and James pulled forward and I could tell he was sliding into his ass because Marcel's face almost seemed surprised. He turned back to me and started to move into me again, while moving himself on James.

I turned to my side and saw Tim in one of the chairs, naked. He had abandoned his clothes and was slowly jacking himself as he watched us. But I couldn't concentrate on anything but the ways I was being stretched and taken over by Marcel. He leaned forward and the intensity of James body into his increased. James was gasping and he grabbed Marcel by his hair and pulled him back. I felt a wave of gratitude for James, because this felt like protection. Or he was banishing a spirit on my behalf and giving it to Marcel by fucking him as hard as he could.

But the most amazing thing about all this was how irrelevant Tim was. He had nothing to do with this. Or at least he was important by his absence and that was the point. He was nowhere here. He was sitting watching us, but this was about something else. This was about James and I. That took me completely by surprise. It was as if Marcel wasn't even there, even though he needed to be in order for this to be what it was.

I could tell Marcel was getting close, because he was speaking French in a low voice, and his breathing was irregular and harsh. I looked up into his eyes for a moment, but he couldn't see me, or anything. Then, still driving forward, he gave a long, low moan, still fucking me, but I could feel his body trembling. James stopped moving, and then pulled Marcel out and away from me. He moved forward and pulled me up so I was sitting in his lap. He adjusted us a little and then I felt his cock slide into me, lubricated by Marcel and his cum.

I sat in his lap and he continued his fucking, only me this time. We kissed and the familiarity of it, the taste of him in my mouth was a balm to all the roughness and intensity from Marcel. I helped him by lifting off and settling down so his cock went deep. He wrapped his arms around me tightly as we fucked, and I heard his voice in my ear. "I love you so much." It was the first time he had said it so clearly and simply. I looked into his eyes and repeated the words back to him.

We just looked into each other's eyes and then he came, opening his mouth and almost yelling, leaning back and gasping. I felt my ass becoming slippery and I lifted myself up so my cock was in front of his face. He knew what to do, and he sucked me in as I massaged my cock into a small fire and I could feel cum pouring into his mouth as he sucked it and me down.

I pulled out, still dripping cum and sat down again, allowing his cock to re-enter me. We sat for a moment, breathing as if we had run a thousand miles. Our bodies were wet with sweat and all I could smell was that fundamental scent of warm, animal, hormonal, pleasure.

He leaned in and kissed me a few times, lightly and carefully. Then he stared at me for a moment. "We're so getting married."

The laughter erupted out of me it was so unexpected. From someone from whom I expected the unexpected all the time, this was still the most surprising thing he could have said in that moment. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

I didn't even need to think. Fuck heteronormative, it was a good idea after all we had been through together, not least of which was what had just happened in Tim's living room. "Ok. Let's."

I kissed him, still half-laughing. I suddenly realized we weren't alone, even though it felt like it. I turned and saw Tim and Marcel, each in a chair. Marcel was just watching us, smiling. Tim, I could see, had just come all over himself and was lying there looking spent.

I smiled, still holding back laughter. "You guys all right?"

Marcel spoke. "We're just fine. And it seems so are you."

I nodded my head and turned back to James. "Wow," was all I could say.

On the train back to Toronto, we sat quietly, dozing or talking. I felt calm and even though the weekend had been, well, intense, there was a clarity to how I felt that was nice.

After James, Marcel, and Tim and I had recovered from...well, that whole thing, which involved cleaning ourselves up and finding our clothes, we went out for a cocktail, as if in celebration, and then had a nice dinner in a bistro near Tim's apartment.

Our conversation was light and we didn't mention what had happened that afternoon which, for me, was good. I sat, eating some nice food, and enjoyed the company. Especially the part where I sat beside James and absorbed his lovely energy. We held hands much of the time and a few times Tim tried to mock us for it, but I think the sincerity of it stopped him in the end. And besides, I could tell that Marcel and he were in a similar position. In love, I mean.

As I sat, watching the scenery go by, I suddenly remembered Stuart. I turned to James. "We need to have our date with Stuart. I completely forgot.

James looked surprised. "That's right. We had plans. I think the 'exorcism' took precedence for a while. Why don't you arrange for him to come next weekend?"

I pulled out my phone and texted him the proposal. He responded right away, wondering why it had taken us so long. I said I had an unexpected problem, which was true. I got a little flirtatious in my response which, I realized, was fun. I put my phone down. "Is the beginning of us luring nice guys over to have our way with them?"

James laughed and grabbed my hand. "Well if you put it that way...but yeah, we're free to have fun. Does it feel that way to you?"

I didn't hesitate because I felt clear. "Of course. As long as I get to do it with you." And I leaned over and kissed him, grabbing his crotch as I did.

"Hey, let's be civilized!" But he was smiling.

We got off the train in Toronto and made our way back to James' condo. We hadn't decided it, it just seemed obvious. Once we were on his giant sofa with a glass of wine, I finally spoke. "Were you serious? I mean about marriage?"

"Of course I was. When am I not serious?"

"Uh, when you're fucking around..."

"Ok, but the rest of the time, I'm serious. So I was being serious. You want to?"

"Of course I do. I just needed you to say it again."

He leaned over and kissed me a few times. I loved how he tasted. I ran my hand through his hair, as if I hadn't done it before. "You were right about the exorcism. It worked. I feel free of that part of my past. And...closer to you because of it. That surprised me."

He watched me talk and then put his wine down. He took both of my hands in his, lifting them and kissing the one on top. "Yeah. That was the plan."

"You figured it out before I did."

"It's easier from the outside, I guess." He thought for a moment, still holding my hands. "So...when should we do it?"

"Uh...I have no idea...but..."

As we talked about possibilities and scenarios, I began to get excited. Despite all the years we had know each other, this felt new. As if going to Montreal had been a cleansing, purifying ritual that we had emerged from, slightly different people with our eyes clear. What a nice feeling.

THE END