Date: Sun, 02 Mar 2003 23:48:54 +0800
From: paul sung <psun@hotmail.com>
Subject: newyear2

DISCLAIMER
==========
This is a work of fiction; any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. The author asserts all legal and moral rights
(copyright (c) 2003 - psun@hotmail.com) to this work and you may not
copy it or transmit it in any way except in its entirety and with this
disclaimer. This story features descriptions of sex between males:
- if such material is prohibited in your jurisdiction, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you're under the legal age to read such material, please DO NOT READ ON,
- if you don't like, or are offended by such material, please DO NOT READ ON.
And any comments - brickbats or bouquets, send them over to
psun@hotmail.com And if you find that you like what you're reading, visit
my page at http://www.geocities.com/savante_2002


The man was like a mind-bending drug in my system, an addiction that I
couldn't get out of. All my weekly counselling sessions and
thousand-dollar therapies couldn't cure me of this fatal obsession. The
irresistible urge came to me in the dark of night when I lay in my bed,
tormenting my dreams, daring me to lose control and surrender to the
need. Closing my eyes, I could just imagine the taste of him, the slick,
salty sweat that ran down his pecs, his soft lips that he kept tightly
compressed to hide their sheer lusciousness, the hard, promising mound in
his crotch that I longed to explore.

Lying back on the comfortable chair in one of the office chairs outside
the main office, I reached my hands behind me and cradled my head smiling
to myself. It was an unusual place and time to find me in the offices of
Sung Inc. Sure, James Sung was listed as one of the main shareholders in
the company but there would be no warm welcome, no red carpet waiting for
me here. A man who had repeatedly failed the company, who had brought
disgrace to the family and besmirched the family name certainly wouldn't
be welcome here. A broken feather in the Sung family wing. So what was I
doing here with a packet of noodles and a box of freshly steamed dim sum?

It was a question I'd posed to myself countless times tonight and I could
only find one answer. The door to the main office was slightly ajar and
from my vantage point at the assistant's desk outside, I could look in to
see him. It was already 9 at night and John was still sitting in his
office, manipulating some data in his office computer - no doubt going
over the specs of his latest acquisition, a troubled utilities company in
the United Kingdom. Every iota of his award-winning brain was focused
solely on his work and he hadn't even noticed my presence - or the fact
that the whole office had emptied leaving him all alone. A half-empty
glass of wine sat at the edge of his open notebook. It was easy enough to
remember the feel of the glass in the ring of my fingers and I could
almost feel the heat of the wine on my lips. Resolutely, I turned away,
focusing on the one thing that remained equally - if not more -
intoxicating to me.

My man - though he didn't know it yet but I would make sure that I broke
the news to him as gently as possible. He wasn't handsome in the
traditional sense, one would have said that he was striking rather than
handsome. His nose was a bit too large, his jaw much too defined, his
mouth a tad pouty but it all came together in a combination that was
undeniably attractive - and cute though he certainly wouldn't appreciate
the comment. The one spectacular feature on that face would be his eyes,
dark, almond-shaped chocolate brown eyes that tilted at the edges making
him look like a despondent cocker-spaniel at best. True to form, he hid
his best feature behind a pair of wire-framed glasses. This late in the
night, he was still dressed in a suit and tie, he was a traditional kinda
fellow after all. The brilliantly coloured tie he had on - incidentally
one that I'd bought for him four years back in a generous mood - had
already been pulled askew and the top few buttons of his finely tailored
shirt had been carelessly unbuttoned showing off a glimpse of tanned,
well defined chest. Although he was no gym freak, John believed in
keeping his body fit and it showed.

My eyes ran down his slim, lithe physique and I felt my cock hardening.
It would be so easy to tear off those glasses, tear off the suit and give
the man a night he would never forget. Slam the door shut, get the man
out of his briefs and plant a kiss on that sexy butt. Yum. We hadn't had
sex as yet but I was hoping to change the fact soon.

Sure, John was a stubborn bastard with a stick-up-his-damned-fine ass at
times but I still had a yen for him. It sometimes seemed as if I'd had a
thing for the man since forever. Occasionally, the man might be too
damned autocratic for my taste, hopelessly set in his ways and though he
vehemently denied it, loved running everything his way - although I
couldn't totally blame him since unfortunately his way was usually right.
But contrary bastard that I was, I loved bucking his rules, breaking
convention and seeing him turn that exasperated glare on me. That
squinty-eyed, frosty glare that had the other members of the family
running for cover but had me grinning all the more. John might have a
legendary temper hidden behind that saintly demeanour but he rarely lost
it, keeping his temper locked up tight in a seething bubbling cauldron of
emotions. The man spoke softly but he definitely carried a big stick.

Unfortunately, up till now I hadn't had an opportunity to handle the
stick - the man was notoriously shy - but I could certainly fantasize.
Something in the way his pants curved around the generous mound in his
crotch promised something as impressive as his academic credentials and I
was certainly prepared to pay homage.

Of late, John had started getting worried that he was getting old before
his time. For someone his age, he had the responsibilities of running a
multinational family corporation and a trouble-ridden extended family -
that wasn't even his in the first place. The oft-quoted comparisons to
our grandfather didn't help much since he feared turning into our
autocratic, hot-tempered grandfather who continued to run the household
and the business he started from behind the scenes - with an iron fist.
He needn't have feared. Although he had inherited my grandfather's looks,
I could also see that he had inherited his own mother's cool control and
her overwhelmingly practical ways. No one pushed the indomitable Mrs Sung
around - which was why she was the Chief Executive Officer of the
company. With these two forceful personalities in his life, John would
certainly have turned into a timid little wallflower if he hadn't had a
mind of his own.

Despite my grandfather's wishes for him to join the company, he had
decided to become a doctor instead like his own father. Of course, my
grandfather was smart enough to know that no matter how stubborn John
was, he had a soft spot for the family - and for his grandfather. When my
wily grandfather floated the idea that he was growing a little too old
for the business - adding a few appropriate hacks and phlegm to force the
issue, our dutiful John crumpled easily to the old man's wishes. Till
now, John frequently spoke of leaving the company to start practising
medicine but I couldn't see that ever happening. Like everything else he
did, John had a golden touch with the family business and he soon proved
almost invaluable to the business. Old Man Sung was certainly not going
to let go of such a prize.

I was the exact opposite, the ubiquitous black sheep of the family. Sure,
I could give a whole sob story of my parents. My mother was a spoilt,
precious little primadonna with more designer clothing than brains who
had gotten herself knocked up by an excessively handsome, careless
American playboy, produced a child that was me and then proceeded to have
the longest, most dramatic separation ever known. For years, they
remained together for some God-awful reason known only to their sick
minds, biting, scratching and indulging in varous distempered freaks till
three years ago when a frustrated John had finally managed to cut the
knot binding the two of them together. What devious methods he had used
to garner their easy acquiescence was a daily mystery to the rest of the
family although I had a pretty good idea that blackmail had been
involved. Unfortunately, he only managed to do so far too late to save
me, their utterly fucked-up son. Alcohol, drugs, petty theft, bar fights,
mindless sexual escapades, you name it and I've probably done it - or at
least tried an attempt at it before falling into another mindless,
drug-induced coma. The only good thing in my life then was John. Although
I certainly didn't appreciate him then - and certainly abused him
verbally more than once, I knew even then that no matter what I did, he
would always be around to clean up after one of my messes. Although it
might earn me a look of disapproval and an often recited homily, he could
always be counted on to listen to my rantings - and later deal with the
damages I'd done, physical or otherwise.

Back then, I was the poster boy for what not to be in the Sung family -
and the frustration of my grandfather. Each of his attempts to reform me
only sparked off another wild spree of drunken orgies. It was only a year
ago that I started taking a turn for the better - when retribution came
knocking on my door in the form of a furious John - and a well-placed
right hook. Even then, I didn't change immediately though it would seem
to the others that I did a complete 180 degree turnaround. It took
several months - and an excruciatingly painful period of abstinence -
before I could live without the acute adrenaline rush of recreational
drugs, the soothing blend of a martini and a smoke. Therapy and
rehabilitation hadn't spurred me on to change. It was the one look from
the man I'd counted on - that first look, not of disapproval this time
but of disappointment, of plain disgust. I couldn't stand that look and
each time I faltered, each time I longed for that glass in my hand, the
one pill that would give me that high, I could see a pair of stern dark
eyes judging me and finding me lacking. And I would curse him.

It was only after several months of rehabilitation that I came to realize
that the emotional baggage that I shouldered around had coloured my
judgement - and my opinion of John. Placed under parole in his care, it
slowly dawned on me that I certainly didn't hate the man and truth be
told, I had probably always cared for him. It didn't come as a sudden
flash of insight accompanied with violins and angels singing. It came as
I lived with him on a daily basis - as I saw him taking care of me as he
took care of everyone he cared for, the way he'd made sure I met all my
appointments, the way he placed the patch on my shoulder, the way he made
sure my eggs were nicely browned just the way I liked it. He was a nice
man and this time I didn't mean it derisively. To still care so sincerely
about a man who had treated him as badly as I had was no mean feat and I
knew I could never match him in that.

It didn't surprise - or shock me at all that the object of my affection
was a man. After all, I'd had sex with women before - and yes, with men
too. My sexual inclinations leaned each and every way and my old motto
was, if it felt good... Analyzing my feelings and emotions certainly
weren't my style. Eventhough I wasn't at all sure if what I was feeling
was love, I was certainly game enough to make a go for it. All I knew was
that John made me want to be a better man - and damn if he didn't make me
hot. It would have shocked him if he could read my thoughts, I'm sure.
The man was an old-fashioned prude and I could just imagine the horror on
his face if I told him I had the urge to lick his hairy balls, go down on
him and ream him but good. I could easily imagine licking the hair in his
well-toned pits, counting down his ribs, pressing my lips on the
pink-tipped cones of his nipples.

My cock twitched in my pants. This time, I wanted him bad. It had been
six months since I'd last had sex, the longest period of abstinence since
I hit puberty and had hair growing down my groin and I had a throbbing 9
incher with his name on it. There was a growing lust in me, compounded
with the added fact that I remained in close proximity to the object of
my lust on a daily basis that threatened to overcome me. Before I'd found
out his own inclinations, I was content to remain silent about my
feelings since I didn't want to repay his kindness by forcibly jumping
his bones but once I'd caught view of the JPEG on his laptop, all bets
were off.

Fortunately, the one good thing I inherited from my parents were my
looks. Sure, I looked good. Dark, thickly lashed bedroom eyes, the slash
of high cheekbones, soft, gently curved lips, well-placed dimples, a
hard, tight body... what was there not to like? The excesses I'd put my
body to hadn't dimmed my looks even a bit and I'd gotten modelling jobs
easily once I'd managed to make it on time for the the appointments. To
my knowledge, it was also the one thing John couldn't resist and I
intended to use it to get what I wanted.

If my guess was right, John Sung wanted his men big, bad, buff and with
an attitude. Sure, I wasn't as tall as him but other than that, the
description fit me to a T. Of course I was working on losing the attitude
but he didn't have to know that. Dressed in my favourite battered leather
jacket, a white ribbed tee that showed off my sculpted body and almost
sinful black jeans, I looked terrific - and I am sure John would be
pleased with the effect. Underneath that slick preppie suit was a sex pig
who desperately wanted to jump my bones, I could read the signs well.

Half an hour ago, his personal assistant, the sexy and efficient Grace
had vacated the office, giving me the key to the boss' office. Sure, I
might be the irresponsible scapegrace but I was still a considerable
shareowner - and the grandson of the chairman. As usual, we'd flirted
back and forth as I slowly pried out information about her boss.

The brass key was in my pocket. Fortunately, John had one of those
old-fashioned doors which locked with a key on both sides. Moving out
from my seat, I grabbed the takeout dinner I'd bought and strode towards
the huge wooden doors. Giving the slightly open door a nudge with my
foot, I made my entrance with a smile guaranteed to melt the pants off
any man. "Hey, John."

"James!" Dropping the spectacles he was holding with his right hand, he
looked up with a start. A series of emotions ran through his expressive
face from sheer amazement to a touch of fear which surprised me.

Coming into the office, I turned and discreetly turned the lock, shoving
the key back in my pocket. After all, there was a chance that the man
would bolt and I certainly wouldn't want that to happen. Facing him
again, I swung the bag I'd gotten onto the piled up desk. "Working late,
I see."

"Uhh.. no.. just some work." He was nervous - for some reason and I liked
the feeling that I could make him nervous. Ever since I'd made my
confession to him, John had remained MIA, preferring to return home late
at night when he could be sure that I'd gone to bed. Although his excuses
were eminently reasonable, it started making me suspicious and I'd
decided to check it out for myself.

"You are an obsessed workaholic," I scolded him as I looked at the pile
of files littering up his desk. Even in the midst of the clutter, there
was an ordered, almost military precision with the way he kept his
workplace. There were only two things of personal value that he kept on
his desk. One was a cleverly wrought metal picture frame with the picture
of his immediate family. One quick glance and I knew that the frame had
been crafted by our cousin, June. The other surprisingly was an action
figure that I'd bought for him half a year ago in one of my better moods.
The handsome elf from Mirkwood perched carefully on the top of the
picture frame, looking almost whimsically out of place with the rest of
the work-oriented desk.

"Stop. Don't say that, please." Waving his hands in defeat, he let out a
warm laugh. "I have been working on that the past week, scheduled some
time for recreational activities and.."

"So many meetings, eh," I added with an agreeable smile as I slowly moved
over to his side of the desk. "All those late-night dinners. The charity
functions. Working late through the night."

There was a guarded tone to my voice that started getting him worried.
Smile fading, he replied cautiously. "Uhh... yeah."

"It's not a problem." Resting my ass at the edge of his desk, I folded my
arms and gave him a considering look. "I bought some dinner for you since
I know you'll forget. As usual."

He looked down at the package and smiled again like a little boy. "You
remembered."

It was wan tan mee from a roadside stall in Petaling Street and luscious
dim sum from Lai Po Heen, a restaurant in one of the poshest hotels in
the city. Amazingly, I'd paid for it with money that I'd earned on my own
- after landing an exclusive contract to be a clotheshorse for one of the
leading designer brands. Evidently, I'd managed to impress them with my
style, my panache - and of course, the great-looking body that I was
lucky enough to be born with.

"I remember everything." Thinking over what I'd said, I reiterated with a
barely suppressed grin. "Well, most everything when I'm sober."

Turning to look at me, he reached up and gave my hand a squeeze. "What's
past is past, James."

This time, I grinned, my dark eyes sparkling. "At least you don't have to
bail me out anymore." I referred to a time in my career when the local
police contingent knew me well enough that they tossed me into the cell
just before speed-dialing my cousin. After all, no matter how much I
fucked up, I was still the grandson of one of the most prominent citizens
of the city.

Instead of smiling in return as I'd expected, John shook his dark head.
"Well, you've turned over a new leaf so let's not bring all that up
again."

His hand was warm and strong, as capable as the man himself and I covered
his hand with mine. "I'm hoping you really do believe that."

"I do. Everyone's proud of the way you turned your life around, James."

I raised a dark eyebrow. "Including you?"

"Especially me. That's something that you never have to doubt."

"Well, I do love what I do." The compliment touched me more than I'd
expected. Ever since I'd been out from rehab, I'd been throwing myself
into work with almost a vengeance. It amazed me how much time I had when
I wasn't partying till dawn or getting hungover the day after. As I
modeled mostly part-time, I spent my early mornings working on a degree
in advertising and working my body at the gym. Of course there were the
occasional off-days when I woke up cold, shivering and mind-numbed and
all I could think of was a nice cool hit that would deliver me from all
these burdens but those days were thankfully becoming few and far in
between. Pleased with his compliment, I smiled and let my fingers trail
down his pile of books. "A lot of work recently, huh."

"Work?" For a man who probably lied in business as often as he did, John
couldn't meet my eyes. Keeping his gaze carefully trained on the desk, he
answered in a neutral voice. "Yeah, as I said earlier."

"Too bad. I thought we had plans for dinner, didn't we?" I said casually.
A dinner and whatever happened next had been my plan about two weeks ago
when I'd mentioned it to him. At that time, he had already been hesitant
but he'd finally agreed, albeit with some reluctance. Unfortunately with
John disappearing, I couldn't pin the man down for the date.

"Dinner?" John replied quietly, picking up his pen and twiddling with it.
"Yeah, you know what, I think we might have to postpone it."

"That's no problem. After all, I know you've been hard at work. Like the
dinner yesterday."

"The dinner with the advertising committee."

"Yes." At least the man was consistent with his lies. I'd hoped that he
would at least slip up with his lies but he hadn't. Obviously having
memory banks like a supercomputer came in handy at these times. "You know
something, I just spoke with Grace earlier."

"Grace?"

Beating around the bush wasn't my style and I was getting frustrated,
knowing that he could continue going around the subject endlessly. "I
know you're lying. You have been avoiding me, haven't you?"

The pen he was playing with stilled. "No. I really have work and.."

"John."

"Yes, I have been avoiding you." Finally giving up on the pretense, John
put down the pen and faced me, his dark eyes staring up at mine. "Look,
James, I've thought it over and it wouldn't work out. We're too
different, we.."

"Bla bla bla..." I repeated, cutting him off. Those puppy dog brown eyes
stared up at me with so much sincerity that I couldn't help reaching over
to muss his perfectly arranged dark hair. Straight, thick black hair with
just a hint of a curl at the ends, which he kept ruthlessly pulled back.
"I knew I shouldn't have left you alone too long. You spoil everything by
thinking too much."

"James.." he told me softly. "We're cousins. Do you understand? We're
cousins."

The barely concealed horror in his voice had me smiling. "Not related by
blood, might I remind you? And I've never thought of you in a fraternal
manner."

"Yeah, right." He smiled. "You couldn't be thinking of humping me while
we were toddlers.."

I shrugged. "Who knows? I've always been a pervert."

"Shucks, I knew you were the one who felt me up in kindergarten." Dark
eyes twinkling, John let out a laugh, the warm, deep laugh that I loved.
For all his serious ways, the man loved to laugh - and he had a devious
sense of humour that he kept hidden. "James, this won't work out. Imagine
what everyone would think. It's already shocking enough that I am gay, I
don't think I want to compound everyone's shock by adding the news that
I'm sleeping with you."

"You haven't slept with me," I pointed out to him. "And why must everyone
know about this? I don't intend to tell them. Do you?"

"They'll find out. They always do," he said fatalistically.

Leaning down to his level, I met his gaze and whispered softly. "Well,
then, we have to keep it very, very quiet, don't we? Although I bet
you're a little screamer, aren't you? All the repressed studs usually
are." Knowing that he wouldn't expect it, I moved even closer, barely an
inch away. The sudden proximity stunned him, he caught his breath, his
dark eyes dilating in surprise. It would have been so easy to just lean
over and clamp down on his sexy lips.

"I am not repressed," he insisted, his dark eyes widening. "Look, I know
what's happening here. You're going through a very tough time, it's been
a while since you've been off..."

Trying to keep me away, John had placed his hand on my chest, warding me
off. Through the sheer cotton of my tee, the heat of his fingertips
sizzled against my skin. It was a sensation that I enjoyed and lifting my
own to cover his, I pressed his hand even closer. "Don't psychoanalyze
me, sweetheart. I've been analyzed by the best," I replied coolly.
Turning his chair to face me, I leaned down and smiled devilishly. "Come
on, John, you wanted a walk on the wild side, didn't you?"

"This isn't what I meant." His breath had hitched slightly as he pulled
his hand away from my grasp. "I meant living life a little, cutting work
sometimes... not embarking on a relationship with my cousin."

"Not a problem." I lifted my shoulders in a quick dismissing shrug.
"Well, since you're not all that keen on a relationship, we can just have
mindless sex."

"Your seduction routine needs some work, James."

There was no need for him to deny what he was already feeling. It was an
indefinable look, a scent, a feeling that I found easy to recognize in
others as they looked at me. I smiled roguishly. "I don't need to play
games with a man who already wants me."

Although he didn't deny it, he let out a soft chuckle. "God, you sure do
have an ego."

"That I do," I told him with an agreeable nod. There was no need to argue
about an inalienable fact. I've always been an egoistic bastard, after
all. Even before my months of therapy, I'd already known every single
flaw in my personality since my parents saw fit to remind me each time
they found me lacking in some way. "And you love me all the more for it.
Warts and all."

"You've got a wart?" he asked suspiciously.

My grin grew wider. "Why, John. You'll have to look real close to find
out, won't you?"

"Very funny." In a bid to escape, John tried to lean back on the chair
but I got ahold of the armrests. "James, you're crowding me."

"You're a big man. You can push lil me away quite easily." A stray lock
of dark hair fell across his smooth brow and I flicked them away.

Annoyed, he batted my hands away. "James."

We were close enough that I could feel the warmth from his body, the
teasing whiff of his cologne and it was evident that he felt the same.
His dark eyes were heavy lidded now, dark and hot with an emotion that he
couldn't help feeling. Stepping quickly away from the desk, I started
pulling off my jacket, shrugging them off my broad shoulders.

"What are you doing?" His voice rose in something approching a squeak
that had me chuckling.

"It's hot in here." Holding on to the jacket in one hand, I turned to him
and gave him a flash of my best smile. Just for his voyeuristic pleasure,
I flexed for my man that left him almost drooling at the edges of his
mouth.

Abruptly, he slammed down his notebook. His dark eyes were cool again.
"It's late. Let's go home."

"Why don't we stay here awhile? There's no one else around, we've got
dinner here and we've got a great view." It was amazing but I was
obviously rattling him again and I found a perverse delight in doing so.
His sentences were clipped and hurried, a sure sign that he was losing
it. "Stay a while, John."

Waving my protestations aside, he started shifting a few files into his
briefcase, hastily flipping through the covers before keeping them. "I
work here. I've seen it. Get your things and we'll.." Grabbing the food,
he headed for the door, reaching out for the doorknob to open it. "Fuck,
you locked the door."

"Yeah." The man remained unmoved and remained at the door, resolutely
facing the other way. Tossing my jacket on his desk, I took a step
forward and forced myself up against the solid wall of his back. So close
that we were almost molded together and I could bask in the scent of his
sweat, his fear and the musk of his expensive cologne. Involuntarily the
man trembled and the firm muscles on his back rippled in a wave that sent
a thrill down my spine.

"James." His usually commanding voice sounded almost weak as he tried to
order me around. "The key. Give it to me."

"Is that all you want from me?" The man didn't make a move to turn around
and I could guess why. It made me wonder whether his hard erection was
already soaking up the front of his pants. Easily, I slid one hand around
his trim waist and pulled his hot body close. Underneath his suit, the
powerful curves of his fine ass flexed against my hard, pulsing crotch,
seemingly eager to receive me. Pleased with his reaction, I blew a warm
breath against his left ear. "You seem scared of me, John. Why is that?
You know I'm not going to hurt you."

Helplessly, he rested his head against the wooden door. His hands
released their grip and his briefcase fell unheeded to the floor. "This
won't work out. Look, I am not going to fall for this."

My warm lips brushed against the soft curls that grew at the nape of his
powerful neck and he shivered. "Stop it."

"I can't." I moved my lips up from his neck to begin my assault on the
soft shell of his ear, flicking my wet tongue around the outer edge.

The sensation caused him to let out a barely suppressed groan. Diving
below his well-tailored jacket, my hand moved down the firm curves of his
abdomomal wall down to his slim waist, playing with the metal buckle of
his belt. Something big was happening down below and I was eager to find
it.

"Don't." Finally finding the strength to fight back, he pulled away from
me. As I took a step closer, he warned me away. "Give me the keys." His
handsome face was flushed and his chocolate brown eyes warm and
heavy-lidded with the glow of sex. His broad chest rose and fell in
measured breaths, the belt buckle loosened and dangling.

"The key, Johnny?" Sliding the key out of my pocket, I gave him a devious
grin while I dangled it before him - right before I slid it down the
front of my jeans. "You want the key, come get it yourself."

"Come on, James." He said cautiously. "Give me the key."

I raised my eyebrows.

"I..."

It seemed as if John Sung was finally at a loss for words. "I've always
wondered what it would be like to fuck you in your office. In that
chair."

His thick dark brows drew together. "Shut up."

"Press you down on that table and.."

"Fuck, I'll get it myself." Determined to get the key, he marched forward
with his gaze resolutely set on my forehead and shoved his hands down the
front of my jeans. After a second, he stopped, closed his eyes and
released a soft groan. "You are a bastard, Jamie."

His hot, clever fingers crept down curling around the already hardening
tool in my crotch. "I try my best."

I would have said more if the man hadn't shut me up by planting those
sexy lips on mine, sucking on me as if his life depended on it. And soon,
I found that he left me with nothing much to say.