Date: Sat, 02 Mar 2002 16:51:18 -0500
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: brian and tommy - part 6

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Brian," Tommy sighed, near him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Tommy," Brian sighed.

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

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

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

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

"Where?" Brian whispered, looking around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Howie!" Nick wheezed, grabbing his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," Brian answered, stepping forward again.

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

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

"Howie?" Brian asked. "What?"

"No!" Tommy yelled, cutting him off.

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

"Back off!" Howie yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man was gone.

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

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

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

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

"Howie?" Brian asked quietly, blinking.

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

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

"I love you, too."

***

The End!