The Next Morning
Brian was awakened by blond hair tickling his nose. As his eyes slowly became accustomed to the bright sunlight shining through the suite's French doors, he raised his head just enough to observe his husband still softly snoring on his shoulder. The light bouncing off the gleaming, gold and platinum wedding band worn on the younger man's finger made the memorable events of the previous night come rushing back to him – that and the delicious, stiff and sore feeling all over his body from his and Justin's several rounds of lovemaking. Fuck – maybe I AM getting too old for this. Dismissing that thought instantly – he couldn't help it if Justin's libido was more than a match for his own – he gingerly sought to disentangle himself from the blond's loose grasp.
After several seconds, he slowly rose from the bed, making sure Justin was still asleep, and walked over to the kitchen area to start some coffee and visit the bathroom to relieve himself. He also took advantage of the momentary silence to quietly phone room service for some breakfast.
Sipping his coffee while sitting in one of the leather recliners, he heard the soft knocking on their door approximately 15 minutes later. Taking the serving tray from the employee and paying him a generous tip, he quietly walked over to the sleeping, blond vision still slumbering peacefully.
Gently setting the tray down on the bed table, he leaned over to give his new husband a gentle kiss on the lips. "Rise and shine, sunshine," Brian whispered into his ear. At first, the only indication that Justin had heard him was a slight crinkling of the button nose; a few seconds later, though, he watched as the long lashes slowly fluttered open and a faint hint of blue appeared underneath.
Smiling tenderly, he again reached down to kiss the plump lips; this time, the blond responded in turn, pink tongue peeking out briefly to slip into the other man's mouth as his arms went up to pull the head more firmly forward to deepen the kiss.
Brian chuckled softly. "I see Sleeping Beauty is finally awake," he commented. "Almost, anyway. If you sit up, I've got a nice surprise for you."
The blond finally spoke. "I already got that last night." His normally rich voice, however, came out as raspy and soft.
Brian frowned, concerned. "Justin? What happened to your voice?"
"I don't know," he croaked, throatily. "It was fine last night." Teasingly, he added, "Maybe it's from sucking your dick too much."
Brian smirked, his concern, though, still not assuaged. "I don't think so. You've never had a problem with that BEFORE. Do you feel sick? I hope you're not coming down with something."
"I don't feel bad," his husband assured him. "Just a little sore throat."
"Well, you sound like a male version of Kathleen Turner," Brian observed. "If it wasn't for the fact that you might be getting sick, it would actually be kind of sexy," he drawled.
"Anything to get into my shorts."
"You're not WEARING any shorts," his husband retorted, noticing the other man's obvious sign of desire. "That makes it a lot easier to take care of ONE of your problems, anyway," the brunet added, leaning down as the other man smiled and pulled him full force onto the bed with him. "Yeah, Doctor, I got it REAL bad. You'd better kiss and make it ALL better."
"My pleasure, Mr. Taylor. I think your condition will require something up your ass, and I DON'T mean a suppository," he commented, drawing a raspy laugh from the other man before he was smothered with kisses and fucked the blond senseless.
About an hour later, Brian remembered the original reason why he had awakened his husband. Reaching over from the bed, he grabbed a hold of the silver tray with two covered dishes on top and, with a flourish, placed it on the other man's lap.
Delighted, Justin asked, "What's this?"
"This is what is known as breakfast in bed," he announced, a sarcastic expression on his face.
"I thought that's what I just HAD," Justin teased, again the voice coming out just slightly louder than a throaty whisper.
Brian swatted him playfully. "This is the high-carb version; we just got through with the high-protein part."
"Ah," Justin rasped. As he lifted the two platter covers, he smiled in delight: Brian had arranged for a delivery of milk and Captain Crunch cereal, along with fresh blueberries on one plate, while the other held a jumbo, Stuffed Strawberry Belgian Waffle with syrup and fresh whipped cream. Of course, by the time the high-carb breakfast was uncovered, the waffle was cold.
Brian gallantly retrieved the waffle from the blond's possession and promptly warmed it up in the microwave as the slender man with the outrageously, insanely-high metabolism gulped down the cereal.
He watched from the recliner, amused, as Justin polished off the waffle in less than 10 minutes. "Well, your throat may be a little sore, and your voice may sound like Kermit the Frog, but there's apparently nothing wrong with your appetite, Sunshine. For food or anything else," he smirked.
Getting a stuck-out tongue in response, Brian finished the rest of his coffee before advising, "Maybe you'd better see a doctor this morning before we leave for Greece. The last thing I want is for you to be sick while we're on our honeymoon."
"Brian, it's just a sore throat and a hoarse voice. It's no big deal," he managed to squeak out.
"Still, Sunshine, we don't want whatever you've got to get worse," he persisted. "What will it hurt for you to be checked out?"
"Okay, okay," he remarked, holding out his hands in surrender. "I'll ask the front desk if there's an urgent care center or something nearby. Will that make you happy?"
Brian smiled. "Yes. That and a little more nourishment while we take a shower," he whispered huskily. "Only can you try and be a little less vocal while we're fucking this time? Right now it makes me feel too much like I'm fucking Mickey Mouse."
Justin, who had arose from the bed and placed the breakfast tray down on the kitchen counter, didn't need to supply a vocal response to that remark; he simply smacked his nearby husband on the head.
"Ouch! At least your strength hasn't been affected any," he observed sarcastically, rubbing the top of his stinging head.
"I don't know," the blond squeaked. "I'm starting to feel a little weak….you might have to carry me to the shower." He suddenly appeared to stagger dramatically and, prolonging it as long as possible, finally fell to the floor in a heap.
"Nice try, Sunshine," Brian remarked, unconcerned, feet still propped up on the recliner. He saw the blond's head pop up slightly out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help smiling smugly.
"Fucker." Unfortunately what Justin intended to come out as a snappy retort instead came out as another high-pitched croak, causing Brian to laugh heartily. Totally frustrated, he stood up, hands on hips and turned, stomping into the bathroom, as Brian's laughter echoed behind him.
"Well, it looks like I'm going to live," Justin announced, as he walked back into their suite a few hours later. "As if YOU would care," he croaked indignantly. Unfortunately, he still sounded about the same.
"Exactly what did the doctor say?" the brunet asked from his perch on the couch.
"He said it was an upper respiratory infection, and gave me an antibiotic. He said it pretty much had to run its course, though. Said to gargle with some warm salt water in the meantime. Fortunately, for YOU it's not contagious. I'd hate for you to have to join the Mickey Mouse Club with me," he added sarcastically.
"That didn't exactly sound sincere, Sunshine," his husband said. All he received in return was a fake smile.
As Justin came over to sit next to the brunet, however, Brian reached over and gently rubbed the other man's shoulders. "Poor baby," he cooed. "You're still MUCH more adorable than Mickey Mouse, though."
Justin's only response was a soft sigh of frustration as he turned and wrapped his hands around the other man's back, his head resting on his husband's chest. Brian turned and gently pulled the blond down onto the couch, spooning him around the long, lean body. He wrapped his own arm around the other's waist from behind as he whispered softly in the pale ear, "It'll be okay, Sunshine. You just need some TLC from your adoring husband." He thought he heard a slight sniffle in response, but knew enough not to call the other man out on it. He continued, instead, to tenderly caress the slender stomach soothingly until he felt the even, soft breathing of his lover's sleeping body. Smiling contently, he, too, closed his eyes in slumber.
Pittsburgh – Same Day
"Carl – come in." Greg Matthews motioned for the detective to enter his office. After meeting again with Kingsley and Settlemeyer a short while ago to sign the necessary paperwork, his silent promise to go home at a decent hour to be with his wife had been long forgotten.
"Hi, Greg," Carl Horvath greeted the other man, shaking his hand. "You wanted to see me?" he asked, as he accepted the proffered chair across from the attorney and sat down.
"Yeah. I thought you should know what happened to me today."
"I have a feeling this has to do with someone we both know and LOATHE," he answered with scorn. He held no respect or sympathy for the man who had tormented two of Debbie's "sons."
"You are very astute," Greg confirmed. "I got a visit this morning from David Kingsley and his attorney, Bruce Settlemeyer."
Carl thought for a few seconds – why does that name sound familiar? Then it clicked. "You mean the detective who testified during Prescott's trial?"
"The one and same," Greg verified. "Seems he had some interesting information he wanted to tell me – for a price."
"Oh?"
"Yeah – it appears Prescott hasn't let his new, more austere accommodations in prison cramp his style. According to Kingsley, he asked him to find someone to take care of Sinclair and Kinney for him."
Horvath was startled. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"You got it. He wanted Kingsley to find someone to dispose of both men for good. Told him to go see his brother, who now has control of all his money, and he would give him half up front and the other half when the job was done. Once an entrepreneur, always an entrepreneur," he commented caustically.
The police detective was stunned. "Unbelievable! What did Brian and Justin say when you told them?"
The other man looked a little uncomfortable as he admitted, "Actually, I haven't told them yet." Before the other man could protest, he explained, "I know they're on a vacation right now, and, besides, I really don't have a resolution to this situation yet. Kingsley has agreed to testify and gather additional evidence against Prescott and his brother in exchange for immunity from further prosecution. I think they've been through enough for now – I didn't see any point in telling them until I have more information for them. At least with Brian out of town, he will be relatively safe for now until we can nail Prescott and his brother for this latest stunt."
"Does Sinclair know?"
"Yes, he does. And he was absolutely shocked. Didn't really want to believe me at first, but I convinced him this was NO joke. That's why I called you here – I need your help to set up some undercover protection for him until this whole mess is resolved."
"You got it – just let me know what you need and I'll see that you get it."
"Thanks, Carl, I appreciate it."
Carl continued to stare at the other man in disbelief. "Shit. Just when you think he's someplace where he can't do any more harm, he pulls something like THIS. Unbelievable," he repeated. "So what's the next step?"
"Well, TWO steps, actually. I've contacted the prison officials at the correctional institution where Prescott's confined, and they're going through their recent surveillance tapes to verify that Kingsley DID in fact meet with Prescott on the day and time he indicated to me. It won't prove what was said, but at least it WILL prove that they did have a conversation together and will help to back up Kingsley's story. More importantly, though, we will be placing a wire on Kingsley to record his conversation tomorrow with Aiden Prescott, the brother. Let's just hope to hell he manages to trip the fucker up and get him to implicate his brother, in addition to himself. Everything hinges on how convincing Kingsley can be."
"Well, something tells me that guy's had plenty of practice being underhanded, so if anyone can pull it off, I'd bet HE can."
"I hope you're right," Greg responded. Standing up, he added, "What do you say we get out of here? It's been a hell of a day," he admitted.
As Carl walked out with him, Greg realized how exhausted he was. He was absolutely worn out, and tomorrow would no doubt prove to be an even longer day. He just hoped it would be a fruitful one as well – one that would finally help put Prescott and his accomplices where they couldn't do any more harm.
Gently caressing the soft, blond hair, Brian whispered, "Justin? Baby, we've got to get up and get ready for our flight." He noticed the sun was close to setting, the long shadows creeping through the double doors.
The only response the brunet received initially was a slight mumble as the other man snuggled deeper into the protective arms of his husband. Well, at least I know he's still alive, he silently joked. Deciding it was time to resort to more overt action, Brian gently nudged the blond's shoulder and spoke a little louder this time. "Justin. We have to get up, Sunshine." He slowly released the other man from his embrace, hoping that would result in a little more productive reaction.
Fortunately, he got his wish as he noticed the blue eyes opening. Justin appeared a little disoriented at first, until he realized Brian was lying behind him on the couch where they had fallen asleep earlier. "What time is it?" he asked, his voice still raspy, as he slowly pulled himself upright to sit.
"It's almost 6:00 and our flight leaves at 8:30," he reported, twisting his body around to sit next to the younger man. "Got to get packed and checked out. The airport van is supposed to be here in an about an hour. Are you feeling any better?" he asked, reaching over to take the pale hand in his.
"Maybe a little," Justin answered hoarsely. "At least my throat isn't as sore now."
Brian smiled, relieved. "I'm glad. Hopefully you'll be good as new by the time we get to Mykonos."
Despite not feeling 100%, Justin's eyes shone with excitement at the thought of their next destination; Brian had not really told him much about their accommodations, other than to tell him it would be fabulous. Knowing his husband, he was sure they would be, and he couldn't wait to see what Brian had arranged for them. But really, he didn't care WHAT it looked like, as long as Brian was with him.
He reached over to plant a tender kiss on the brunet's lips before whispering, "I can't wait to get you alone on that island and make mad, passionate love to you while we watch the sunset over the Aegean Sea."
"Sounds like a great plan to me, Mickey," Brian teased, as Justin rolled his eyes in exasperation. Standing up, the brunet reached out his hand to pull Justin up, not being able to resist planting another kiss on his husband as he briefly sucked on the plump, lower lip before reluctantly letting him go. "Come on," he urged the other man, as he turned him around toward the bedroom. "I'm going to need your help to make sure what we brought here can fit BACK into our suitcases – sort of like when only one sock comes out of the dryer," he joked. Chuckling, Justin followed the taller man into the bedroom to prepare for the next leg of their journey.