Almost Easy

“You know what,” Jimmy said to me, his pupils visually dilated. “you’re fucking great.”
“Thanks,” I giggled. “You’re fucking great, too, Jimmy”
“Yeah, but do you know who’s the greatest?” he continued, staring me dead in the eye. “That fucking guy at the bar. He’s the best.”
He meant Brian, who was currently in the process of obtaining for drinks for the group. Not that I was sure that Jimmy needed anything else in his system.
I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? I hardly knew Brian—I was hardly fit to pass judgement on his value. From what I’d seen of him, though; he was the fucking best.
“He likes you,” Jimmy grinned, tapping me on the nose with his skinny finger. “I can tell.”
“Is that right?” I blushed, keen to hear more.
There was nothing more beneficial to an ego than drunken friends spilling each other’s secrets. I’d been known to confess Tyler’s undying love to a woman or two. There’s something about booze that makes everyone want to play matchmaker. Jimmy was drunk and high—so I can only imagine his level of desire.
“Big time,” he grinned, stretching his hands far apart to signal just how big.
“What makes you say that?” I asked curiously. “He’s flirty for sure.”
“Pft,” Jimmy spat. “Flirty? The man worships the ground you shit on.”
“Firstly,” I laughed, “I don’t shit on the ground. Second, I hardly think Brian worships me. Give me a break—you’re being a shitdisturber.”
“Maybe,” Jimmy continued to grin. “But I’m not wrong.”
“Sure, Jimmy,” I waved him off with a smile.
He looked at me seriously then, moving his face within inches of my own.
“Don’t fuck him over,” he said flatly. “Or I’ll have to murder you.”
I scrunched my face, “Fuck over Synyster Gates? Come on.”
“Don’t let him fuck you over either,” he smirked. “He’s my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend,” I joked, pushing Jimmy’s face away.
“You’re my best new friend,” he nodded. “How perfect is that? My oldest best friend and my newest best friend shacking up!”
“Nobody is shacking anywhere,” I protested.
He raised his eyebrows, “I saw that little public display of affection. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Blair. I’m crazy smart.”
“I believe you,” I laughed, ruffling his hair.
“It was very obviously a precursor,” Jimmy continued, biting at his nail, “to shacking up.”
“Maybe,” I mused, trying to hide my giddiness.
Brian returned then, carrying six drinks on a small wooden tray. He placed them down on the table as gently as he could, trying not to spill a single drop.
He handed one to Jimmy, “Not that you need anymore, you fucking animal.”
Jimmy looked pleased with himself.
Then Brian handed me mine, his face kind, “For you, my love.”
I couldn’t pretend that didn’t make my soul swell. I was a sucker for hot men calling me cutesy things—other than sweetie. I motherfucking hated sweetie.
Probably because I couldn’t live up to the name—I was by no means sweet.
Or because it’s what my father called me; your choice.
“Thanks,” I smiled up at him, wishing desperately that he’d sit next to me and not Jimmy.
He did.
He sat incredibly close, to boot. I assumed he was still revved up from our steamy exchange. I sure as shit was.
“So,” Jimmy breathed loudly, downing his drink in one fell swoop, “not to be a party pooper—but I’m feeling a bit like a third wheel here, so I’m gonna take off!”
“What?” I demanded in a panic.
I wasn’t ready to be left alone with Brian—lord knows I couldn’t control myself. Jimmy was my buffer.
“What happened to babysitting?” Brian teased his friend. “Where are you going to go?”
“Babysitters are a dime a dozen, man,” Jimmy shrugged. “I’m going to find one that’s female.”
“I’m female,” I pointed out.
Jimmy made wide eyes at me, “I don’t share.”
“Call me when you get home,” Brian instructed him seriously.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jimmy waved, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before disappearing into the crowd.
Then it was just the two of us.
“Third wheel,” Brian muttered under his breath.
“Wednesday,” I blurted out, trying to fill my mouth with something other than the memory of Brian’s tongue.
Brian squinted at me, “Addams?”
“No,” I laughed, “but I love your thinking. Wednesday is a good day in the studio, for visitors I mean.”
“Wednesday?” he asked, mentally scanning his calendar. “I have an Avenged thing in the morning but I could swing by afterwards—you there all day?”
“Oh yeah,” I groaned. “They’re trying to wrap this up in the next week or two. It’s going to be literal hell.”
“That’s a tight timeline,” Brian mused.
I nodded sadly, “I’m exhausted already.”
“Wednesday a vocal day?” he asked with his eyes searching my body again.
God damn him.
“Not entirely,” I shrugged. “I’ll try and get it out of the way before you show up.”
“No, don’t!” he argued lightly. “I want to see you in action. There’s no way that’s not an aphrodisiac.”
God damn him.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I winked.
Brian held his glass out to me, “Cheers to new friends.”
I took him up on this, “Cheers.”
We finished our first round and each lit a cigarette respectively.
“So,” I said with a lung full of toxins, “Jimmy’s gone.”
Brian held his breath, “Right.”
“There’s no blocking happening,” I pointed out knowingly, teasing him with my gaze.
He grinned, “Right.”
“So,” I continued, exhaling through my nose and trying directness on for size, “I say we finish these drinks and get the fuck out of here.”
“You read my mind.”
We came crashing through my apartment door—I’d struggled to get air long enough to slide the key into the lock. Brian was planting small kisses up and down my neck, holding my waist tightly in his giant arms.
I slammed the door closed behind us and knew, for sure, that I’d be getting evicted soon. At that moment, I didn’t care.
My lips were pushing harder and harder against Brian’s, directing him sloppily to the couch. He bit at my lower lip, driving my insides crazy. A small moan escaped from my throat; this satisfied the fuck out of him.
I pulled this perfect creature down onto the couch, leaving him to linger just overtop of me. His hands exploring every crevice of my body—except the one location I was eager for him to tend to.
My fingers laced themselves into his hair and we kissed. Damn was he a good kisser. I hadn’t been this fired up literally ever. There was electricity between us.
I let go of my grip to move my hands downward, pulling his shirt over his head. We broke our lips apart for a quick second.
In this second, Brian looked straight into my eyes, desire burning strongly within them. He surveyed my body, taking in my figure and undressing me with his mind.
I reached out and tilted his chin to face me again. He closed the gap between us once more, hungrier this time.
Brian pushed himself further on top of me, forcing me onto my back. The control he had one me caused another soft moan.
I could feel Brian’s infamous smirk as his tongue danced with mine.
He was working on getting my shirt removed from my body, a task that would have been easier achieved in our former position, when the phone began to ring.
I ignored it.
Pulling Brian further into my body, proving that I was focussed only on him. I cared only about that moment.
He hardly seemed to notice the phone.
He moved along my neck, planting his lips in a trail downward. Another moan.
The caller gave up. No message.
Brian’s brown eyes looked up at me as he began to pull my shirt upward toward my face. I threw him a bone, pulling it over my head in a fury.
His hands found my breasts, massaging them as his lips found mine once more.
The phone rang again.
This time, the ringing unnerved me. I tried to ignore it.
Brian moved back to my neck again, working his way down toward my breasts, which were free once he’d slipped his hand down my back and unhooked my bra. He tossed it to the floor without a second thought.
I tried to look at the phone from where I was—without being obviously distracted.
“Don’t answer it,” Brian mumbled from my chest, looking up at me with his beautiful eyes again.
I shook my head, encouraging him to continue with my hands buried in his luscious locks.
He teased my nipple with his tongue, tickling and biting. I moaned, arching my back involuntarily with pleasure.
Brian smirked.
“Blair,” Tyler’s voice filled my apartment. “Blair, are you up? Pick up if you’re there.”
I looked down at Brian; he, too, seemed to be at a loss. We both waited for Tyler to hang up.
He didn’t, “Blair, please. Please pick up. I need to talk to you. I need to fucking talk to you.”
I recognized the tone in his voice better than I knew my own reflection. Without thinking, I forced my body to stretch and acquire the phone.
“Ty?” I rushed.
Brian sat himself up but, to my surprise, didn’t look angry at all. He looked to me with a look of curiosity but not much else. This only made me like him more.
“What’s wrong?” I asked once Tyler had responded with my name.
He was sobbing, “Can you come over?”
“Why? What’s going on?”
I hated when Tyler would do this to me. It wasn’t that he was burdening me or that he was inconveniencing me, even though he often was; it was that he made me so worried that I would often become ill.
That feeling was brewing deep in my gut as he spoke.
“I can’t do this, Blair,” he wept.
I hesitated, trying to be mindful of my tone in front of Brian, “Did dinner not go well?”
“It went fine,” Tyler sighed. “But then I came home. Alone. I’m always alone.”
“You’re not alone,” I insisted. “I’m always here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Tyler cried. “None of it matters.”
“I’m coming,” I told him seriously. “I’m on my way right now. You behave until I get there.”
I hung up without giving Tyler a chance to resist.
Brian looked at me expectantly. He’d already put his shirt back on.
“I don’t know how to explain this without compromising his privacy,” I tried weakly. “Tyler has some issues.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Brian smiled sweetly. “You think my friends don’t have demons? I get it.”
“You can stay,” I urged him. “I won’t be long.”
Brian’s eyes melted, “Yes you will.”
“I really don’t want you to go,” I said with such honesty that I surprised myself.
“I know,” he kissed me gently. “We’ll catch up later.”
I grabbed the pen from beside the phone and scribbled my number onto his palm. He admired it with obvious satisfaction.
“Call me tomorrow,” I told him seriously.
He grinned at me, “I will do that.”
He left with a supple kiss before I headed into the bedroom to change. I couldn’t show up at Tyler’s in the clothes I’d been wearing all night—I was supposed to be having a chill night. I pulled on some sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and headed out the door.
I did a mental count of how many drinks I’d had and decided I was safe to drive. The adrenaline of Tyler’s worrisome call and pretty well sobered me up entirely.
As I hopped into my car and started the ignition, I prayed to whatever god I didn’t believe in that I could make it to Tyler in time.

Notes

Anyone else spend way too much on a signed Syn shirt?

Enjoy this tease of smut.

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