Dreamspinner Press Year Six Greatest Hits

by JD Ruskin

  Brandt felt Donnelly stiffen—his whole body suddenly steely hard—and his own body responded, each muscle racked hard against the others, forming an uninterrupted extent of tension and leverage. Deep inside he felt the lightning fork of a spasm strike some gland of which he had only been dimly aware before; from this contracted heaviness he felt the fluid blast forth, testing the strength of the plumbing that would conduct it to the outside world—or at least to Donnelly’s mouth.

  Together, each man flooded the other with a sweet, sticky surfeit, an overwhelming torrent of semen. Each hot surge was simultaneously issued and accepted in a closed loop of ejaculation and consumption; without conscious thought, both men simply opened and let the cum flow in, no more aware of swallowing than they were of breathing. The frenzy of orgasm drove them to new heights of thrusting and thrashing until sticky rivulets emerged from the corners of their mouths. But still the orgasm would not release them, and they pumped wildly in its throes.

  Finally, gradually, the waves that had overcome them began to ebb, and they returned to something like normal awareness.

  Breathing hard, neither wanted to be the first to release the other’s cock from his mouth. Donnelly’s tongue danced along Brandt’s quivering member; Brandt suckled gently at the tip of Donnelly’s, drawing out the last drops of his essence. It wasn’t until their breathing returned to normal and the beaded sweat began to chill them that they relinquished their hold on each other. As Brandt’s cock slid out from between Donnelly’s lips, he immediately craved its return to that clutching, wet warmth. He shivered.

  “What the fuck was that?” Donnelly rasped.

  “I think we just invented sex,” sighed Brandt. “Because that was like nothing I’ve ever… well, just ever.”

  He planted a kiss on Donnelly’s subsiding cock, and then flipped around to face his best friend. Still panting, he looked deeply into his eyes.

  “You have a little something….” he said, gesturing to the corner of Donnelly’s mouth, where a streak of cum glistened against his pale, perfect skin. He leaned close and kissed the spot.

  Donnelly responded by covering his lips with his own, tasting himself in the mouth of his partner. They kissed, holding each other, the light strokes of their wandering fingertips leaving goose bumps in their wake. Donnelly reached over the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket over them; they snuggled close, discovering new ways for their bodies to fit together effortlessly.

  A BUZZING roused them a few hours later, as they lay with their limbs still entwined. Donnelly picked up his phone from the nightstand and blinked hard to focus. He typed a response, dropped the phone off the side of the bed, and turned to put his arm back around Brandt.

  “Hmmm… Anything important?” murmured Brandt.

  “Just Chris. Wants to know if we’re coming to dinner.” He kissed his way down Brandt’s neck, which was his new favorite thing to do.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said we’d be there, and that we have something to tell them.”

  Brandt rolled over, sure he had heard wrong.

  “What?”

  “I said we have something to tell them.” Donnelly smiled that innocent, bright smile, and kissed Brandt on the nose.

  “What exactly are we going to tell them? I don’t think that the whole double-dutch blowjob thing is really dinner-table talk.”

  Brandt was flushing a bit as he said this, alarmed at the prospect of publicly acknowledging this new… relationship? Whatever they were going to call it.

  “Yeah, I think we’ll skip over that part. But I don’t think I can be there and keep it from them. I mean, it’s kind of a big change.”

  “You got that right. But can we ease up a bit on the wedding announcements?”

  Donnelly squinted at him. His good humor on this issue was, apparently, boundless.

  “Are you ashamed of me, Officer Brandt?”

  “No, of course not,” Brandt blurted. “I just think we should wait for the right time. That’s all.”

  “Agreed. I won’t say anything until we’re both ready. Or until someone asks—whichever comes first.”

  “Well, they’re going to ask, because you texted Chris that we had something to tell them.”

  Donnelly grinned. “Well, then, I guess that’s settled. How about a shower?” And, after kissing Brandt on the cheek, he threw back the blanket and hopped up. “You coming?”

  Brandt looked up at his bouncy partner and smiled in spite of himself.

  “Yeah, I’m coming. Run a nice hot one, okay?”

  “You got it,” Donnelly replied, and headed to the bathroom to start the water running.

  A soapy, splashy hour later the men were on their way across town to Chris’s house. Brandt couldn’t take his eyes off Donnelly, luxuriating in the permission granted by their intimacy to study every detail.

  “What?” Donnelly asked him.

  “What what?”

  “Why are you staring at me? Is there a hole in my shirt or something?”

  Brandt laughed. “No, nothing’s wrong. You’re just… kind of beautiful. I never noticed that before.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “No, I’m serious. I guess I never really let myself see it.”

  “After all of those times I paraded it in front of you in the shower?” Donnelly was doing his best wounded prima donna act.

  “I wondered what that was.” Brandt laughed. “I thought you had jock itch.”

  Donnelly’s riposte was a smack on Brandt’s forehead.

  They laughed as they drove through the warm afternoon.

  At Chris’s, they parked next to Will and Lucas’s tricked-out minivan. Donnelly practically bounded up the walkway and took the front steps in a single jump. Brandt smiled to himself—he had never seen his partner so happy. The knowledge that he was the reason gave him a little flutter in his belly, from which a glow emanated across his entire body. This, then, was happiness, something he hadn’t realized he had been denying himself.

  Chris arrived in response to Donnelly’s frenetic drum solo on the doorbell.

  “Gabriel! I swear, you’re worse than Dylan on that thing! Hello, Ethan, so good to see you. Come on in!”

  After a quick walk through the house, the guys arrived on the back patio, beers in hand. As before, Will was here, supervising the sandbox operations Dylan had underway. Lucas was standing next to Will, rocking back and forth with a napping Delilah pressed to his shoulder.

  “Hey, guys!” called Will, “You made it!”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” replied Donnelly. “Got delayed a little bit by my diva partner here who wouldn’t get out of the shower.” He nudged Brandt in the ribs.

  “Totally not my fault,” cried Brandt. “You’re the one who couldn’t decide what to wear.”

  Will and Lucas exchanged a look.

  Chris came down the back steps with a tray of chips and salsa, and then settled herself at the long wooden table.

  “So, boys, you have something to tell us?” She sipped her white wine and sat back to listen.

  Of course, now that the question had been asked, Brandt’s smile was strained a bit. Donnelly, however, didn’t miss a beat.

  “Well, as you know, Ethan and I have been partners for nearly two years,” he said, in the half-formal manner of someone giving a wedding toast. He stepped to the side, closing the gap between himself and Brandt, and grasped his partner’s hand. The warmth of this simple intimacy calmed Brandt, and his smile again glowed with real sunshine. He nodded at Donnelly, letting him know it was okay to continue.

  “So, over the last couple of days,” Donnelly continued, “this guy has finally come to his senses and realized that he’s in love with me.”

  Brandt laughed loudly and squeezed Donnelly’s hand, hard.

  “What my dim partner is trying to say is that he exploited a moment of weakness on my part and seduced me before I knew what was happening.” He looked at Donnelly, his eyes sparkling. “I�
��m considering pressing charges.”

  They looked at each other, intoxicated by honesty. They had said it out loud, and it was real now. Really real.

  Chris broke the silence.

  “Whoa. Guys, that’s… amazing,” she said. “Congratulations. I feel like we should have champagne or something.”

  “Holy shit,” Will said to Lucas. “That thing really works.”

  “Told you,” Lucas replied.

  “Wait wait, what?” asked Brandt.

  Will laughed. “Lucas always teases me because we’ve been together for years, and I’ve never developed any functioning gaydar. Last week I told him I sensed something was up with you, and between the two of you, and he laughed at me. I figured I got a defective one. But now, vindication!” He thrust his arms into the air in triumph.

  “Dude, you could have told me,” Brandt said. “This past week has been hell. It would have been a lot easier if you had just let me know.”

  Will smiled. “I tried to, but it’s kind of a hard thing to bring up to someone. Not every straight guy would be thrilled to know he makes someone’s gaydar ping.”

  Brandt nodded at that—he would have reacted badly indeed, especially given his emotional state last week when he met Will.

  Chris raised her glass. “Well, here’s to the happy couple. And, Ethan, welcome to the family.” They all cheered and drank—and Brandt felt like he would never stop smiling.

  After dinner, they sat at the table under the canopy of little white lights, a warm summer breeze lazily lifting the corners of the tablecloth.

  “So,” Will asked, a sly grin playing about the corners of his mouth. “When did you know?”

  Brandt, to whom this question was addressed, smiled and shook his head.

  “I didn’t, for the longest time. And then I thought I did, and then I would convince myself I was imagining it, and then I got angry about it and then sad and then I panicked, and then—”

  “What he’s trying to say,” broke in Donnelly, “is that he was completely clueless. I was about to give up on him, and then he kissed me.”

  “Just like that?” Will asked. “Out of the blue?”

  “Sort of,” mumbled Brandt, unsure exactly how it had all happened, now that he tried to trace it in his memory. “It was all Nick’s doing, really,” he concluded.

  “Who’s Nick?” Lucas asked.

  “Someone I met doing this investigation,” Brandt answered, unsure whether he should give any more information.

  “So, this Nick guy had something to do with it?”

  “Yeah, he actually had a lot to do with it. I was kind of really confused, and he just sort of… well, he kissed me, and then I knew.”

  “Knew what?” asked Lucas, curious.

  “Yeah, knew what?” chimed in Donnelly, looking with wry suspicion at his partner.

  “It’s hard to explain, really. I guess he just made me realize that I needed to be more open than I was, and not panic about it. He’s a sweet guy, really.”

  “‘And then he kissed me’,” Donnelly said in a mock swoon, fanning himself delicately.

  “Oh my God, you are all a bunch of lesbians,” Chris cracked as she stood up from the table. “I’ll leave you to process your feelings while I do the dishes.”

  “No, sit!” cried Brandt. “It’s our turn to wash up.” He and Donnelly rose from the table, gathered the dishes scattered around, and took them to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later they were up to their elbows in soap bubbles at the kitchen sink.

  “Your family is pretty awesome,” Brandt said as he looked out the window at the group on the patio and dried a plate Donnelly had handed him.

  “They are. I’m really lucky.”

  Brandt leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “No, I’m really lucky.”

  Donnelly took a handful of bubbles and, for no good reason, splatted them on Brandt’s cheek. They laughed, feeling a rush of new love the likes of which they hadn’t experienced since high school.

  “LOOK AT those two,” chuckled Chris as she watched the bubble fight break out at the kitchen sink. “They’re like kids.”

  “They deserve to be,” Will said. He was idly stroking the back of the sleeping Delilah in his lap—she had woken for dinner and then collapsed again shortly afterward—and watching the guys through the window. “What they’ve been through can really screw people up.”

  “I haven’t seen Gabriel like this since our brother was killed,” Chris said softly, sipping her wine. “I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t ever see him happy again.”

  “Did you know he was gay?” Will asked. He had known Donnelly for several years, and yet he had no idea about this side of him.

  “No,” Chris replied.

  “He was pretty good at hiding it, if he slipped it past all three of us,” Lucas said.

  “Maybe the two of you,” Will said, laughing. “We’ve already established my gaydar wasn’t even operational until last week.”

  “No, I don’t mean that I didn’t know,” Chris continued. “I mean he wasn’t gay before.”

  Will looked at her in surprise; Lucas seemed equally dumbfounded. She went on.

  “We talked about it, over the years, especially after our brother died. He was completely accepting of it, but it was pretty clear he was secure being straight.” She took another drink. “This Brandt guy must be pretty amazing.”

  “I find him pretty amazing,” Lucas murmured, watching Brandt’s shirt ride up as he reached to put a dish in a cupboard above the sink.

  “Dude, I’m right here,” Will scolded. Lucas mimed shame at finding Brandt hot.

  “But it seems odd,” Will continued, “that two straight guys would end up together like this. I mean, what are the chances?”

  “To beating the odds,” called Chris, as she raised her glass.

  “Now we just have to find someone for you.” Lucas grinned at her.

  “The problem is,” she replied as she drank the wine she had just resisted the urge to throw in his face, “I need a straight guy. They don’t seem to last long around here.”

  BRANDT AND Donnelly, watching from the kitchen window, wondered what all the laughing was about.

  ON THE way home, Brandt suddenly remembered that tomorrow was his big meeting with the owner of the frat house, and he hadn’t briefed in the Chief. At the very least, he would need to wear a wire, and it would be nice to have a team standing by in case things went south. He began tapping a machine-gun rhythm on his phone as Donnelly drove through the night. He was so focused on his e-mails that the car coming to a stop surprised him. He was even more surprised to find that they were at his apartment building. Donnelly hadn’t shut off the engine.

  “You coming in?” he asked, snapping his phone shut.

  “No, I don’t think so,” replied Donnelly. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Brandt’s heart sank. Having spent forty-eight hours figuring out what he and Donnelly were to each other, he was terrified to think of what he was without him, alone.

  “But…” was all he could muster.

  “So, go get a bag together and we’ll go to my place,” said Donnelly, as if this should have been clear all along. “That way we won’t have to keep running back and forth.”

  The relief Brandt felt at this was the strongest proof yet of how much their relationship had changed. He never wanted to be anywhere that Donnelly wasn’t.

  “Back in two secs,” he said as he sprang out of the car. It took him under three minutes to grab his outfit from Grindstone and a few other things, and he was back, panting slightly.

  “Did you miss me?” Donnelly teased.

  “Just a little,” Brandt murmured as he leaned over and kissed his buddy gently on the shockingly soft skin at the corner of his mouth.

  “Ohhhh, fuck,” replied Donnelly, who gripped Brandt around the back of his neck and pulled him in tight. The kiss was urgent and yet luxuriant, as if they had all night, and the rest
of their lives, to finish it.

  When they finally came up for air, Brandt growled into his ear, “Let’s get to your place before I fucking explode.”

  “You are such a romantic,” laughed Donnelly. But his lighthearted tone was distinctly at odds with the smoking patch of tire rubber he left in the parking lot of Brandt’s apartment building.

  The drive between the two men’s homes normally took twelve minutes (they had made it so many times that both knew exactly how long it was). This evening they pulled up in front of Donnelly’s house eight minutes later. A dozen minor traffic laws, and two major ones, had been sacrificed along the way.

  They sprang from the car and raced each other to the door. Brandt was about to win when Donnelly goosed him from behind; the shock of his hand jamming between Brandt’s ass cheeks startled the front-runner so badly that he missed the last step and sprawled on the porch. Donnelly landed on top of him, still struggling to get to the door. They both laughed maniacally as they fought to disentangle themselves, not really wanting to come undone but aware of the spectacle they were making. Donnelly fiddled the door open and they fell into the living room, giggling and swatting at each other.

  Brandt pounced on Donnelly, pinned him to the floor. They glowed with exertion, their faces millimeters apart.

  “I hope that’s not your service weapon I’m feeling,” breathed Brandt, sliding up and down urgently atop Donnelly.

  “It’s not a gun, but it’s going to fucking go off if you keep that up.” Donnelly was writhing as the men ground into each other.

  “Oh hell no,” whispered Brandt. “I’m going to make you work for it tonight.” An evil grin twisted across his face—another gift from Nick. He liked the effect it had on Donnelly. “Get up,” he growled as he reared back off Donnelly.

  Donnelly scrambled to his feet and stood, staring at Brandt. There was a light flashing in his eyes that he had never seen before.