Kinnetik – early next morning

Brian eyed the piece of chocolate marble cheese cake lying on the corner of his desk. Despite his adamant statement last night to his friend that he didn't want so much as a bite of the high-carb, sugary Captain Astro cake, Mikey had insisted he take a piece with him, enthusiastically telling him the confection was "out of this world," just like the superhero he worshiped. And although Brian would never in a million years admit it, he had tried just a teeny, tiny bite of the birthday cake this morning and he had to grudgingly agree – the cake was good. MORE than good. It was probably the best, fucking dessert he had ever tasted. Well, at least when it came to food, anyway.

At the moment, however, the brunet had some other type of dessert on his mind – namely, the somewhat sweet, somewhat salty taste of a certain spunky, fiery blond with the bluest eyes of flashy determination and chutzpah he had ever encountered. Just a few kisses with the man and Brian knew he was a goner. Now he had to have more – MUCH more. The only problem was how best to go about getting it.

"Just make sure your sample is as good as mine."

Brian smiled to himself as he thought about the other man's parting comment last night; Taylor certainly had balls – and by the look of his cock size, what balls they must be, no doubt. In fact, he had conjured up all sorts of pictures in his mind last night as he resorted to fucking some unknown, nameless trick in the back room of Babylon after Mikey's party to release his sexual frustration. The Delectable Doughboy, as Brian began to think of him after their round of passionate but all-too-brief kisses last night, promptly skipped out on the party after their encounter by the bar, to the brunet's profound disappointment. Of course, he wasn't about to let him know that. But he couldn't believe how aroused he had felt in the back room just picturing what it would be like to feel that soft, oh-so-pliant body against his again – in bed, in the shower, and anywhere else he could fuck the artist senseless until the blue eyes literally saw stars behind them.

He peered down at his laptop, which was displaying several photos Lindsey had e-mailed him this morning of Michael's party. There were the obligatory photos of the wondrous cake that had gotten so many oohs and aahs, Michael with the cake, Michael with Debbie, Lindsey with Mel, Brian himself with his arm around the birthday star, who was wearing a goofy expression and flexing his muscles just like his smaller alter-ego, general background photos of the partygoers, and even a photo of the outer-space buffet spread before it had been virtually inhaled by the guests. But the one that captured his attention the most was the photo of a certain, hot, blond dynamo standing proudly next to his latest and best creation wearing his shimmering, tight clothes and a blinding smile that was absolutely stunning in its intensity. Well, Mr. Taylor, today we're going to try and create something TOGETHER – better hold onto your cake pan, he thought to himself, smirking self-assuredly.


Sugar Plum Cake Design and Party Planning Shop – Same Morning

"Just make sure your sample is as good as mine"

"No, you didn't. Oh, my God, Baby! Did you really SAY that to him?" Emmett smiled in horrified amusement, partly excited and partly shocked. He had never known Justin to be quite so bold when it came to another man's attentions; the poor boy must have it bad for this one. He noticed his friend's face flush as he nodded.

"Yeah, I did," Justin confessed ruefully as he winced. He placed both hands over his face in mortification as he sat on one of their stools in the back room and relived his very sensual and most definitely tactile experience with the brunet last night at the club. "Em, what was I thinking?" He cringed inside. "I must have been out of my fucking mind," he decided. There – that was it – the only possible explanation for why he would have made such a bold statement of challenge to this man who practically oozed sex in his deep, melodic, entrancing voice and his slow, graceful, almost dangerous walk - sort of like a long, elegant jaguar on steroids.

Emmett looked over at his friend in sympathy and shook his head; as talented and adorable as he was both inside and out, it was hard to understand why Justin would ever question his self-confidence when it came to attracting men. Hell, if Justin had given him one iota of encouragement when they had first met at the deli where he worked, Emmett would have gone after him in a heartbeat. He was glad now, though, that their relationship had evolved into more of a good friendship instead since they had decided to work together; too often he had seen the unfortunate results of a work romance gone bad. But because he HAD known his friend and worked together with him for a few years now, he knew he was good at talking in a self-assured manner but he didn't always believe in his own hype.

He walked over and placed a reassuring, comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Honey, I saw the two of you together. You may have thought your feelings were one-sided, but believe me, they weren't. Not by a long shot. That sexy, arrogant man definitely wants to get into your tight little…uh, leather pants," he finished as Justin glanced up at him and rolled his eyes. It was obvious what his friend was really going to say, but it didn't matter – they both knew it. Emmett also didn't have to say anything about whether Justin felt the same way about him – one look at their lips locked together last night, tighter than a facelift on a 50-year-old, and you'd have to be blind not to notice the mutual lust and sexual attraction pouring off them.

Justin looked up at his friend and sighed, admitting, "I can tell the man's attracted to me, Em, and he's fucking hot, let's face it," he added, his face flushing with heat in remembrance of the man's roaming touch and his oh-so-kissable lips with a tongue that could perform acrobatics inside his mouth like no one else ever had; he noticed Emmett readily nodding in agreement over that statement. "But I don't want to be just another fuck to him, and that's his reputation from what I overheard last night. He pursues a guy until he gets what he wants, and then he drops them like yesterday's news." He threaded his right hand through his errant hair in frustration. "On the other hand, the man still owes us our fee and an advertising campaign. Which brings me to what else I heard," he stated, as Emmett looked over in interest. "Apparently Kinnetik's reputation is well-deserved; the man definitely knows how to advertise – both in AND out of his business," he muttered. Yeah, he can definitely ADVERTISE his best assets to the utmost advantage if last night's APPAREL was any indication. Just looking at the man last night wearing that long-sleeved, black shirt that hugged every curve of his torso and those tight, tight, blue jeans had made him hard in a virtual instant. Was he going to be able to keep up with this big-leaguer? Well, if he couldn't, at least he decided he could die happy trying.

"I don't know, Baby," Emmett said thoughtfully, thinking back to what he saw last night; the man's body language was definitely broadcasting more than just a passing interest in snaring a casual fuck. "He may be a big-time player, but I think there's more to his interest in you than just adding you to his list of been there, done thats. And besides," he added, his eyes twinkling, "I happen to think you can keep up with him just fine."

Justin looked over at him doubtfully. It was one thing to engage in polite conversation with a nice-looking man, exchange phone numbers and maybe go out on a date to get to know him better; it was quite another thing to possibly find himself alone with a 6' 1" chiseled and powerful predator of lean, tan, muscular flesh that had eyes that bored right through to your very soul. A man that could quite easily eat you alive and not leave any bones around to tell about it, a man that…..

"Justin? Sweetie, are you listening to me?"

"Huh?" Justin's face flushed as he realized Emmett had been trying to get his attention; he focused his eyes again on his friend sheepishly. "Sorry….I was sort of daydreaming. What did you say?"

Emmett smirked. Yeah, and I can guess WHO you were daydreaming about, my friend. "I said…You certainly got plenty of compliments about your cake…..Thanks in large part to you, baby, I had all kinds of people asking me about our business…..and I got some cute-looking guys to give me their number, too," he added, winking as he smiled at the thought of having his online date book filled up for the rest of the month. Yes, all in all it had been a very fruitful night for him – and he hoped Justin could say the same, too. The boy just needed a little more encouragement to go after what he wanted – and a little more courage to pursue it.

Justin swiveled around on his stool to face his friend as he informed him, "By the way, speaking of Mr. Big Shot," he cracked, "he wants us to come to Kinnetik this morning so we can collect our fee and he can go over the ad campaign he has in mind for us." Actually, Brian hadn't really specified that both of them had to come; truth be told, Justin was just a little too nervous at the thought of being alone with the man. His body had gone into sensory overdrive just being near the guy and engaging in a few, albeit very smoking hot kisses; if he was actually alone with him, God help him. He shuddered at the thought of the two of them together again, no obstacles or people around to disrupt them as the predator devoured his prey. "Can you go over there with me in the next hour or so? I don't have class today until noon."

Emmett paused; should he or shouldn't he? Lie, that is. He actually didn't have any particular plans this morning – he had finished up the majority of work for the grand art show gala celebration this weekend, and just had to tie up some minor loose ends. And he was curious to find out just what the best ad executive in Pittsburgh – gay or otherwise – had come up with for their shop. But he also had seen the two looks these two men were giving each other last night, and despite Kinney's reputation, he thought just maybe the man may have more than just a casual interest in his blond friend. Justin was extremely passionate – in his art, his cake designs, his friends, and in his views on everything from politics to his hometown; he deserved someone who could be just as passionate and could provide a challenge to him, and keep him on his toes; it was just possible that this sexy, cocky, and extremely self-assured man could be just the man to fit the bill.

Making a hasty decision that he hoped Justin wouldn't kill him for later, he tried to place a certain degree of regret in his tone of voice as he advised his friend, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Baby, but I'm way behind on the art gallery party for this weekend. I'm anxious to see what this Kinney comes up with for us, but I'm afraid you'll have to see him by yourself today. You can bring the information back later and let me know, okay? You know me well enough to know what I would like, and I trust your judgment, sweetie." You owe me BIG time for this one, Lindsay, he thought. I just pray I'm making the right decision here.

Justin cringed inside; damn it – Emmett would have to pick this week to fall behind on his party planning. Normally, he was always on schedule. Why all of a sudden do I feel like an insect about to be fed to a Venus Flytrap? Well, surely Kinney would be surrounded by all sorts of people from his art and advertising departments, wouldn't he? That should make it…what word was he trying to think of? Safer…..that was it. It would at least make it safer. Safety in numbers, they always say. Why did that somehow not make him feel less nervous about their reunion this morning? Maybe because the man looks at him like he's some tasty morsel to devour.

"Justin?" Emmett noticed his friend turn to him with a start; apparently he was daydreaming again, no doubt about the same subject.

"Uh…..that's okay, Em," Justin replied softly, trying to focus on their conversation. "I…..can do it alone." I think, anyway. He made a spontaneous decision as he told his friend, "I think I'll go over now." Maybe no one will have gone to lunch there yet – safety in numbers, safety in numbers, he kept repeating silently as his mantra. As he nodded goodbye to Emmett, however, somehow he didn't think that was going to be the case; when it came to Brian Kinney, NO amount of distance would be enough.


Kinnetik – One Hour Later

Justin entered the main, rather austere door of Kinney's business at 10:30, hopeful that he was there early enough to catch everyone still in their office, but late enough that he would also have an excuse to leave in approximately an hour because he would need to depart in time for his first class of the day. Surely he could stand to be around the man for an hour, he thought, trying hard to convince himself but not having much success. Just the thought of encountering him again today had made his palms start to sweat and his heart quicken its erratic beating.

Several employees bustled around him near cubicles as he turned down the main corridor into an open lobby area and encountered a rather tall, attractive blond woman sitting at her desk. Cynthia peered up curiously at the handsome, young blond man approaching her; from her position in her desk chair, she noted that he seemed nervous about something. Thinking he must be a salesman conducting a cold-call, she smiled slightly and asked him politely but coolly, "May I help you?" She noted his remarkable, sapphire-blue eyes as the man smiled back at her almost shyly and announced softly, "I'm here to see Mr. Kinney." He lightly bounced on alternating feet as he spoke to her.

Cynthia figured she was right; although he was dressed rather casually in a pair of linen pants and a long-sleeved, solid blue tee shirt, he must be yet another type of salesman trying to persuade her boss to buy yet another useless product. He certainly didn't seem too self-assured, though, if he was trying to sell him something. Deciding the poor man must be in the wrong line of business, she asked him, "Do you have an appointment?" staring at his eyes intently.

Justin shuffled uncomfortably; this woman was certainly direct and to the point; it had the effect of making him even more flustered than he already was. "Uh…..No," he admitted.

Cynthia thought so; she pretty much knew Brian's schedule like the back of her hand, and she didn't recall anyone being scheduled to meet with him around this time. "Well, I'm sorry, Mr.…..?"

"Taylor," Justin replied self-consciously. "Justin Taylor."

"Well, Mr. Taylor, I'm sorry, but Mr. Kinney doesn't see anyone without an appointment." Although, you're certainly cute enough to get his attention. It wouldn't be the FIRST time he had fucked a salesman, or a copier repairman, or the bottled water delivery man, or any OTHER attractive gay male. Despite her rather perfunctory dismissal of the slender blond, however, she noticed to her surprise that he apparently wasn't going to give up so easily, because he didn't appear to be ready to leave; rather, he stood there in front of her in thought before he responded, "Uh, I think he's expecting me," he told her, wondering if he should leave now before it's too late.

Cynthia forced herself not to roll her eyes; how many times had she heard that story? Probably at least a couple of dozen or more, from all types of people who for some reason felt like they just HAD to see the owner of the most profitable advertising agency in Pittsburgh. Her job, however, was to make sure that didn't happen. Unconvinced, she eyed the rather attractive man and told him, "Well, I rather doubt that. I'm responsible for Mr. Kinney's calendar, and I happen to know he doesn't have anyone scheduled to meet with him this morning."

Justin bit back a sigh; this was not going the way he had planned. What made him think he could just waltz in here and get an immediate audience with the man? He should have known he would have to call and get an appointment first. But the man had told him to just "come over." And that's what he was doing – coming over. Well, by God, he was here and he was going to at least give it the old college try. The man owed him his fee and an advertising pitch. "Please…would you just call him and let him know I'm here? He told me to come over this morning to speak with him." He wasn't about to tell her that her boss had suggested some other activities in addition to just talking to him; nevertheless, to his utter embarrassment he felt his face warming to a nice shade of pink as she continued to look at him oddly.

The sincerity in Justin's voice began to sway Cynthia's sense of duty; he certainly sounded like he was telling the truth, but it was highly unlikely that Brian had just told this man to show up, no matter HOW adorable he was. Her common sense warred with her curiosity briefly before she finally decided – What the Hell – and picked up her office.

"Yeah, Cynthia?" Justin felt the pounding of his heart in his chest and his adrenaline began to increase at the sound of that sexy voice. Although Brian sounded like he had been disturbed at the intrusion, Justin didn't care – he could have been dictating a recipe for one of his cakes and the man still would have sounded hot. Even more so, now that Justin knew what the body behind that voice looked like.

"Uh…There's a Justin Taylor here," Cynthia began, as she looked over at the blond, whose forehead was beaded with sweat even though the air conditioning was turned down to an outrageously cold temperature, "he says he was told to c.."

"Well, bring him in," was the impatient, quick reply. The normally poised assistant's mouth dropped open – Brian had never allowed a salesman to just show up and see him. Just what was going on? Now she was REALLY curious. This should be interesting, she thought as she rose from her seat. She motioned for Justin to follow her down the hall. "If you'll come with me," she instructed him, as she moved elegantly down the hall, her high-heels clacking on the polished, tile floor – almost in time with Justin's heart that was pounding like crazy.

Brian smiled to himself, excited now that the object of his most recent, vivid fantasies was about to enter his inner sanctum; he thanked the architects he had hired who did the remodeling of his office for the privacy they had provided him. It was about to come very handy, he thought, as he felt his pulse unexpectedly quickening in anticipation. He placed his most nonchalant mask on his face as he heard a quick, firm knock on his door. "Come on in," he instructed Cynthia.

Justin swallowed a large lump in his throat as he followed Cynthia into Brian's office; he immediately noticed the brunet sitting at his desk, looking absolutely amazing in a black dress shirt with subtle, thin gray pinstripes; he had rolled up the sleeves to expose the tanned and toned flesh of his forearms. As Brian casually focused his dark brown, expressive eyes on him, Justin felt his breath hitch as his body immediately responded to the man's intense scrutiny. Feeling like he was in way over his head, his feet nonetheless automatically took him deeper and deeper into the lion's den as Cynthia stood aside to introduce him.

Brian, however, didn't give her the chance. He took a few seconds to note the blond's rather tight, royal blue, button-down shirt that set his beautiful eyes off perfectly and snug pants that fit the man in all the right places before he greeted him. "Well, well, well…if it isn't the Sugar Plum Fairy," he cracked, smirking. "Come to compare samples?" he intoned innocently, noticing to his satisfaction that the blond's eyes grew slightly larger as he nervously licked his lips. That's more LIKE it. You're on MY turf now, little boy. "That will be all, Cynthia," he told his assistant perfunctorily, leaving no question that she was being dismissed; although he was speaking to her, his eyes never left the young artist facing him.

Cynthia stared at Brian and then back at the young, blond man standing somewhat nervously next to her. Somehow she knew this man wasn't just some salesman that happened to drop by; there was something far more interesting going on than that, but she wasn't quite sure just what. What she DID know, however, was that as far as these two men were concerned, she might as well be one of the area rugs, because she was being totally ignored; the pair obviously had eyes only for each other at the moment. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question to her boss, who finally waved his hand in a definite signal for her to go. She smirked then before she nodded her head at Justin and walked to the door, closing it softly behind her. She stood there for a few seconds, desperately wishing she had some type of listening device – even a fucking glass – before she sighed in defeat and slowly walked back to her desk.

Now that Brian's assistant had left, Justin found himself uncomfortably alone with her boss, who continued to stare at him as if he was about to be the man's main entrée for lunch. His feet felt cemented where he stood, somehow unable to move from their spot. Being in Kinney's spacious and quite private office with the door shut was almost too much for him to handle as the other man continued to almost openly leer at him from his large, imposing leather chair.

"Well?" Brian pressed, his upper body sitting up straight as a pin as he continued to stare expectantly at the other man.

Justin blinked his eyes in confusion. Did the man ask him a question? "Huh?" he responded intelligently.

Brian smiled openly now at the man's discomfiture. "Are you going to come closer?" he asked him with amusement. "I promise I won't bite," he intoned smoothly; his voice came out as an inviting, sexy whisper. "That is…not unless you want me to." The right side of his mouth twisted in an almost evil leer.

Justin cleared his throat as he felt his face flush; this was not exactly going as he had expected. To begin with, where were the other employees that were participating in this advertising campaign? Were they coming in here to his office? Maybe that was it – since he had dropped in practically unannounced, Brian no doubt hadn't had time to call in the rest of "the troops" working on his and Emmett's advertising campaign. He was sure the other man simply had to pick up his phone and announce over the company intercom that their meeting was about to start. Then the others would come rushing in. There….that must be why no one was here yet.

He finally worked up enough nerve to ask the other man in what he hoped was a fairly confident voice (at least it didn't come out as a squeak), "Are we meeting the others in the conference room?"

"Others?" Brian asked him, trying hard to hide his smile at the other man's naivety. He actually found it oddly endearing.

"Yeah," Justin answered. "The others working on the ad pitch for my and Emmett's business," he explained.

"Oh," Brian answered with a gleam in his eye. "There aren'tany others," he confidently advised him. "Your company is small enough that I didn't need anyone else's input," he explained rather smugly. Actually, I didn't WANT anyone else handling you – just ME.

He stammered in surprise, "There…there aren't any others?" He desperately hoped he had not heard the man correctly. Surely any effective campaign required people who specialized in graphics and text for the advertising; how could there not be any others? More importantly, how was he going to manage being completely alone with this man?

"That's right," Brian told him; he watched in silent glee as the blond began to fidget nervously. "Don't worry – I told you I can handle anything you can throw at me," he drawled with that smooth, baritone, hypnotic voice that made Justin's insides begin to turn to mush. "I'm good at what I do," he asserted smugly, his lips curling under in amusement at the other's man face of alarm.

Nervous as hell but resigned to being alone with the man, Justin nodded slightly and cautiously approached the other man's desk; he was determined not to let the brunet know how rattled he felt at the moment. He was startled, however, when the brunet rose smoothly from his leather chair. As he stood up, Justin's eyes couldn't help raking downward from his snugly-fitting black dress shirt to the dark charcoal designer linen pants that molded each curve of his taut body in all the right, tantalizing places. Justin felt his breath stop in his throat at the sight before quickly looking down in hopes the other man hadn't caught his keen interest in his attire.

Brian, however, didn't become such a good hunter of the male specimen by overlooking key details, and he didn't miss the other man's obvious interest in him now. Time to put the next part of my plan into action. Walking out from behind his desk, he reached over his desk s-l-o-w-l-y to pick up his laptop still open on top, his slender, well-toned ass conveniently exposed to the other man's inspection.

Justin was definitely a quick learner; he didn't waste the opportunity to take a closer peek at the other man's enticing anatomy as the tight fabric stretched obligingly around the two firm globes straining as the other man reached to retrieve his laptop. He licked his lips again, but this time it wasn't out of fear. Or maybe it was – a fear of the predator about to strike down his prey. What have I gotten myself into?

Brian turned around after he had allowed the other man plenty of time to see what he had to offer. Ignoring the other man's obvious glazed look of interest in his eyes, Brian smiled professionally at him and held a hand out in invitation. "Let's have a seat on the couch," said the spider to the fly.

"C…couch?" Justin mumbled as he gulped visibly. Did the man just invite him to go sit on the couch? And worse yet, was he coming over to sit there, too?

"Yeah, you know…. A piece of furniture, usually covered in a plush fabric, made for more than two peo…."

Justin glared at him now; the man's condescending statement promptly jolted him back into self-defense mode. "I know what a couch is, Mr. Kinney," he scolded the other man reproachfully.

"Ah, there's that Mr. Kinney attitude again," Brian chided him, as if he were talking to an unruly child. "Haven't we made enough inroads by now that you can call me Brian?" he cracked. "After all, we've already traded saliva."

Justin saw the other man curl his lips under in a mocking gesture. The cocky tone of the other man's voice had put him into attack mode again. Couldn't the man be civil for more than five minutes? He shot back at the other man, "Just because you cornered me at the bar last night and took advantage of the situation doesn't mean you can lay me out on the couch like a cod fillet!"

Brian actually laughed at loud at the man's statement and the righteous, indignant look on his face; he thought it was damn near priceless. Oh, this was going to be so much goddamn fun!

He snorted as if he were offended. "All I asked is if you would join me on the couch so I could go over the advertising pitch I had come up with for your shop, Mr. Taylor," he responded reasonably. He purposely walked past the younger man over to the couch and sat down with a flourish, his long legs spread out in front of him and his laptop resting on his knees. "But if you are too affected by my mere presence, perhaps I could e-mail it to you instead."

Justin stared at him in irritation; the nerve of this arrogant, conceited man! And just when he was beginning to like…no, make that tolerate him. His previous nervousness disappeared as he reared up on his full 5', 8" frame and marched over to the couch to take a seat, although he made a concerted effort to place at least a couple of feet between him and the brunet who was currently looking at him and openly smiling now. "I didn't come all the way over here and spend hours with that fucking cake to not get what I was promised!" he retorted. "Now show me what you've got!" he demanded, crossing his hands over his chest in defiance.

Brian looked up from his laptop through hair that had fallen down over his hazel eyes; eyes that were now boring into Justin like a missile about to strike. The previous smile on his face had all but disappeared to be replaced by a serious intensity that made Justin shiver. "Be careful what you wish for, Doughboy," he whispered huskily. "You might not be able to handle what I've got."

"Oh, really?" Justin shot back. "Well, let's just have a look, shall we?" he challenged.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, however, he had the distinct feeling that coming to this man's office was a big mistake; just being a few feet away from him, smelling the no-doubt ridiculously expensive cologne he was wearing, was having an unfortunate effect on him. It was making his heart race and his mouth water at the sexy sight sitting too damn close to him. Too late now to back out, Taylor.

Brian smiled again at the man's show of bravado. "What part did you want to see first?" he asked suggestively, as he slowly began to slide over closer to the slender blond, who promptly began to scoot his own body away from the other man's. Unfortunately, he soon felt his back bump up against the thick, rolled arm of the couch as he found himself with nowhere else to go.

Brian smiled even more broadly in triumph as he noticed Justin swallow hard; he continued to slide closer to the other man until his body finally came into delicious contact with the more slender one. Checkmate, Taylor.

Justin's mock show of confidence faltered in light of the man's warm body leaning on his; his breath came out in quick, almost silent pants now. "Wha…what did you say?" he stammered, his face now merely inches from the other man's as he felt the heat from the taller man's thighs that were pressed against his own.

The reply was soft and breathy as Brian leaned in to whisper slowly in his ear, "I said…..what part did you want to see first?" The blue eyes stared back at the brunet like a deer caught in the headlights; not wanting to stay so close to danger, but for some inexplicable reason, unable to escape.

Get a hold of yourself, Justin! He chided himself. Think money…more business…..Emmett…..Hell, think of anything besides the warm, oh-so-sexy body currently molded much too firmly against his own and the almost painful hard-on he was currently creating.

I know which part I would LIKE to see, came unbidden to his mind. No…..this is business, damn it! Make him put out…..no, wrong way to phrase it. He managed to finally squeak out, "You were going to show me the ad campaign you promised to create for Emmett and me," he reminded him, deliberately not looking over into the hazel eyes that were so damn mesmerizing. One look at them and he would completely forget what he was doing there.

Brian smirked, all too aware of the effect he was having on the slender cake designer sitting next to him. Truth be told, the man was having quite an effect on him as well. Just touching him again had brought back all the memories of holding him and kissing him last night, of the yearning, the almost addiction he now had, for more…much more. And before today was over, he was determined to get it. But he could be patient just a little longer and play it out the way the young artist wanted to…..only because the prize was without a doubt going to be so worth it. "Okay, little Doughboy…let me start with showing you the new name and logo I've picked out for your shop."

Justin frowned; this was unexpected. "New name?" he repeated. "Who said anything about a new name? We've had that name since we got our vendor's license."

"Yeah, well no self-respecting, gay boy would work under a name like that," Brian growled. "It's a fucking pussy name. You need something that will pop. Your work is already unique – you need a name that is just as unique."

Justin stared at him in surprise; did this all-too-smug man just give him a compliment? "What….what did you have in mind?" he asked him curiously. Being the owner of the most lucrative advertising agency in town, Justin had to grudgingly admit maybe he had a point – Sugar Plum was pretty prissy for a name.

Brian reluctantly turned back to business now as he punched a couple of keys on his laptop to bring up the new store name and logo he had chosen for Justin and Emmett's business. "Here," he told him, swiveling the laptop slightly so Justin could take a closer look; of course, he didn't object that the blond had to scoot just a little closer in order to see the screen at the right angle.

Justin took a deep breath, fervently hoping the man couldn't see the obvious effect he was having on him but somehow knowing that wasn't true as he noticed him raising a lone eyebrow in a silent, comprehending smirk. Instead of acknowledging the response with a defiant one of his own, however, he tried to concentrate instead of studying the computer screen.

The design on the screen appeared to show a prototype website for his and Emmett's business, with the name Cakes of Art written prominently in flowing, cursive script at the top. Brian had written the business' new name entirely out of paintbrushes, and a smear of frosting flowed like a meandering river directly below it in a sort of underline. Beneath the new name were written the words: Where Edible Art and Imagination Come Together. Justin also noticed instantly that his Captain Astro Cake was prominently displayed directly below the website's title as an example, complete with a small, rainbow-colored flag flying breezily from a flagpole on the penthouse's roof, right next to Michael's small, costume-adorned alter ego. To say the least, he was stunned, probably as stunned as the ad exec had been when Justin had unveiled his friend's cake last night. When Brian had promised to present him with an ad campaign that would knock his socks off, he had no idea he would be including a fucking website as well. The whole idea was positively mind blowing; the man obviously knew his stuff. The only problem was, he damn well knew it, too.

Brian peered over at the younger man snugly nestled between his body and the arm of the couch, watching as his eyes quickly examined the work he had spent hours doing last night and this morning. For some inexplicable reason, Brian was determined to make sure the blond was knocked off his feet by his work. He didn't really try to decipher the true reason why, but he was determined to impress this man. What surprised him, however, was that he really didn't think he was doing it simply to fuck yet another man he badly desired senseless; he really wanted his approval.

"Well?" he asked him, actually a little anxious to hear his response; he did notice that Justin couldn't keep his eyes off the screen and was beginning to smile; both were encouraging signs.

Justin shook his head in wonder before whispering almost reverently, "This…this is unbelievable," he marveled. "I never imagined anything like this," he admitted sincerely now, his eyes still glued to the screen as he soaked in all the different, professional-looking elements of Brian's idea. "I didn't know you were going to do a website; I just thought you were going to make up some type of advertising literature for our shop." He frowned a little now, though, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "But...the new title of the shop only mentions my cakes - what about Emmett's party planning business?" He didn't want to slight Emmett or hurt his feelings - he cherished their friendship too much.

Brian shrugged. "I studied your financial spreadsheets since you opened the business - your cakes have taken in almost 75% of your sales. It needs to be highlighted more than the party planning part," he advised curtly, all business now. "If you bring in more business for your cakes, the rest of it will follow. If your nelly queen friend insists, you can keep the fag name part for his planning business, and I'll have additional business cards made up to reflect that. But I think that would be a big mistake. Your cakes are what's keeping the two of you in business," he told him pointedly. "Not a silver tray with pigs in a blanket."

Justin had to admit it - he probably had a point. He just hoped Emmett would understand and go along with his suggestions for changes. In either case, having a website in addition to their word-of-mouth advertising was phenomenal. And Brian's work on it was amazing; it was replete with an on-line ordering page, FAQs, a contact page, and even some samples of Justin's work that he must have obtained from Lindsey when she had ordered Gus' dinosaur cake. The man certainly knew his stuff. "This...is much more than I had hoped for," he admitted wondrously as he stared enthralled at the flashy, eye-catching prototype.

Brian warmed at the other man's praise, watching in rapt fascination as the blond's lips moved while he spoke; he already knew how talented those lips were from last night, but he suddenly had other visions of just where else those lips could be put to best use, and his body was abruptly rebelling against him at the lascivious thoughts running through his head unrestrained. As Justin continued to study his work, Brian relished in his opportunity to more thoroughly study him. The pale, smooth cheeks, the long, long, eyelashes, the blond, flaxen hair that fell rather erratically around his forehead, the light blue, sapphire eyes, and most of all, those utterly kissable, full lips. The man was simply fucking captivating, and he had to have him.

Justin felt the other man's eyes boring into him as he continued to marvel at the brunet's work; although he was trying to pretend he didn't notice, it was damn near impossible not to. He could feel his gaze on him, as well the warmth of his body pressed so close to his. He wasn't aware, however, of just how close the man was until he commented to him rather facetiously, "I didn't know you had such good taste."

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a pair of hot lips begin to nuzzle his neck. "So do you," was the sultry whisper, as he felt the other man's breath caressing him. He immediately felt a lean arm snake down toward his crotch and give it a squeeze as he yelped softly in surprise. He heard a chuckle from next to him and couldn't help turning his face to look into the other man's hazel eyes, which were intensely boring into his. Two pairs of lips that were only inches apart instantly melded together into a cataclysmic storm of passion as Brian growled and roughly grabbed the other man's neck to pull him flush against him.

Time froze for a few seconds as tongues and lips began to duel for supremacy, and Brian turned his head to angle it for a better, deeper penetration. Justin moaned at the intimate, powerful possession, as well as the almost greedy feeling he was receiving from the other man.

Brian's head reeled from the unbelievable emotion churning inside him as he continued to ravage the other man's mouth and began to rub the blond's crotch through his pants in earnest, quickening abandon. If he felt this way while the man was clothed, God help him once he had his clothes off. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt before; it was as if this man had been made just for him. His mind frantically churned out ways he could fuck this man senseless – he just needed the right platform to do it on. He searched internally for the quickest and most effective way to achieve his goal right there and now as the moans of pleasure coming from his willing captive became more and more vocal and proceeded to turn him on even more than he already was. God, he HAD to have this man – he was like a fucking disease.

The unexpected, cacophonous sounding alarm on Justin's wristwatch abruptly broke the silence that up until then had only been punctuated by the moans of exquisite torment coming from both men. It also effectively quashed Brian's earnest goal of seeing the rest of the writhing, wriggling man's body now cradled in his arms. He bit back an extreme groan of protest as Justin pushed against him now and finally managed to break their mutual lip lock. No…Brian internally rebelled. No fucking way...what NOW?

It took Justin several seconds to regain his voice as his pulse ever so slowly came back down to a more normal, talkative level. He still was breathing heavily as he finally, barely huffed out an explanation, "I….I have to go. I have class in 15 minutes."

Brian couldn't believe this man; they were just about to have the most orgasmic, unfucking believable sex of both of their lives and he had to go to school? Where were the man's priorities?I He protested by still clutching him possessively as Justin looked back at him regretfully. Do you KNOW what you're passing up here, little boy?

Justin knew only too well what he was passing up, if his body's reaction was any indication. But he had already missed a day of school the other day when had to repair Brian's handiwork with the cake. There was no way he could miss another day and still keep up.

Brian glared at him, his body fully unsatisfied and intensely craving what he apparently wasn't going to get. Well, we'll see about that. As Justin was finally able to stand up to leave and took a few steps to distance himself from the tantalizing temptation staring back at him in annoyance, he heard Brian call out to him, "We aren't done here." Justin closed his eyes; boy, you could SAY that again. He managed to respond, "I…..I can come back later this week to pick up our fee and the advertising materials."

Brian growled huskily, "That's not what I meant and you know it, Doughboy." He made a quick, spontaneous decision. "Have dinner with me tonight at my loft," he said dangerously.

"What?" Justin answered, flustered. Did the man just ask him over for dinner? Oh…My…God.

"Yes, dinner…..you know, that quaint custom where you pick up a utensil and…."

Justin interrupted him hastily; he was losing time here and had to go. "Yes, yes, I know what dinner is, you asshole." He shook his head in indecision, not sure if that was a good idea or not. "I…..I never imagined you could even boil water."

Brian grumbled. "Actually, I can't. But I know how to pick up a phone to order out. What do you like?"

You, came the unspoken response. He let out a choked breath of air as he pondered whether being with this man again in close quarters was a wise idea. "I'm...not so sure that's such a good idea," he finally whispered aloud, unsure whether he was trying to convince the other man of that or himself.

Brian pursed his lips together in determination. You're not getting out of this so easily. "What are you afraid of, Justin?" he challenged him outright.

Justin's heart leapt; this was the first time he could recall the man actually calling him by his name instead of some sarcastic nickname, and just hearing him saying it now in that slow, deliberately sexy manner he had made his pulse speed up again. Damn him; he knows I can't back down now. "I'm...I'm not afraid," he maintained defiantly, although his statement came out with less conviction than he would have hoped.

Brian stared at him amused, but he would not allow the feeling to appear on his face. Instead, he plastered on a mask of determination and skepticism as he countered simply, "PROVE IT."

Justin's heart was about to explode from excitement now; he was sure the other man could see it about to come out of his fucking chest from the furious pounding he was currently feeling. Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, he softly told the other man, "Chinese."

Brian smirked; if he didn't know better, he would say the man had just agreed to come over. That almost made up for his supreme feeling of extreme, pent-up frustration at the moment. "7:00," was the short reply, said as if the other man couldn't possibly say no. He hastily scrawled the address down on a small piece of paper and held it out to the other man.

Justin knew he couldn't say no to this man – the temptation was just too much for any red-blooded, gay American male. He let out another heavy, weighted breath and nodded as he snatched the piece of paper from Kinney's hand and rushed toward the door to leave before he decided to back out. I am SO fucked, he said to himself, as he hurriedly walked by Cynthia without so much as a nice meeting you.

Openly admiring the other man's delicious-looking ass as he walked away, Brian couldn't help thinking, I am SO fucked. This man had him doing somersaults inside. Well, don't look now, Mr. Taylor, but we're going to do some mutual calisthenics tonight. Game on.