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rsadelleContent note: This story includes a consensual but undernegotiated rape fantasy scene.
I really like this story! But it needed work that I lost interest in doing, both rewriting the beginning and doing fighting research for the kink escalation it needed in the middle. I feel guilty about abandoning it since a couple of friends were kind enough to read through it and help figure out what it needed, but it's time to admit I'm never coming back to it. If I'd finished it, the title probably would have been "A side of love you've never known" from Jason Derulo's "In My Head."
Brandon will flirt when they go out, maybe make out in a dark corner if there's some girl who seems into it. He doesn't pick up, though, and so far it hasn't been noticeable enough that anyone's chirped him for it.
Figures that it would be Shawsy who notices. "You never hook up when we go out. What's up with that?"
Brandon shrugs. "Not my scene."
Shawsy narrows his eyes suspiciously at him, but lets it go for the moment.
*
Sometime later, they run into someone Brandon knows, someone he's played with. She's his favorite kind of sub, mouthy and aggressive, has to be made to submit. She throws out what's a clear challenge to him, and he holds up his beer in an apologetic no. She shrugs and tells him to call her, and walks away.
"Damn," Shawsy says. "I bet she's wild in bed."
Brandon thinks about her twisting under him, pinned down by his body, begging for his cock and chanting out breathless thank-yous when he gave it to her. He shrugs and doesn't confirm or deny to Shawsy.
*
Shawsy doesn't give up, because he wouldn't be Shawsy if he did. He pesters Brandon about it off and on, like he thinks Brandon will tell him if Shawsy catches him at the right moment. It doesn't work that way, but Brandon finally caves anyway.
He calls Shawsy to ask, "Do you really want to know what my scene is?" three days after the last time Shawsy bugged him about it.
Shawsy jumps at the chance, and Brandon forestalls his excitement by saying, "You're going to have to sign a confidentiality agreement."
Shawsy laughs. "A confidentiality agreement? Are you into hookers? Are we going to a kinky sex club?"
Brandon doesn't answer, and Shawsy stops laughing. "Wait, for real, are we going to a kinky sex club?"
"If you sign the agreement," Brandon says, "you can find out."
Shawsy signs and Brandon explains it to him in the car on the way there as, "A private club, for people who have similar interests."
"A kinky sex club," Shawsy says cheerfully, and Brandon gives up on explanations and reiterates the importance of privacy, and also not acting like an asshole.
Brandon knows the man on duty at the front desk, and he flirts a little while they check in. They hand over Shawsy's signed confidentiality agreement and Brandon signs in for himself and to take responsibility for Shawsy being here.
"The first floor," Brandon says as he opens the door into it, "is a bar. No alcohol because it's not a good idea. It's more a place for people to hang out. Second floor is a public play area. Third and fourth floors have private rooms." He's not sure Shawsy gets all that, because he's too busy looking around the room.
Brandon sighs and nudges his arm to get his attention before leading him across the room to the bar. He gets them a couple of bottles of water and goes over to a partially occupied table.
"Brandon!"
Brandon leans over and kisses Katy's cheek. He takes the chair next to her, Shawsy on his other side. "Hi."
"Been a while," Katy says. She looks down at the girl practically trembling at her feet. "Go on, you can say hi to Master Brandon."
Anna scoots over toward him. "Hi, Master Brandon."
"Hi, kitten." Brandon pets her hair. "Have you been a good girl since I last saw you?"
"Yes," she says.
"Have you?" Brandon pulls her hair just enough to tip her head up toward him. "What have you done since I last saw you?"
Anna bites her lip. "I finished two chapters of my dissertation."
"Good girl." Brandon hauls her halfway up into his lap and kisses her deep and wet, like he knows she likes it. He sets her back down and gives her a push so she shuffles back to kneel at Katy's feet.
"Nice," Katy says. "Now that you worked her up, you wanna have some fun with us?"
"Nah," Brandon says. "Not here to play. Just showing Andy the place."
"Too bad," Katy says, and then they chat a little while Shawsy does a fairly good job of not staring. He's obviously a newbie, but he's not being rude about it.
A couple of other people show up to chat with Brandon, and then Jonah comes over and leans down, one hand on the back of Brandon's chair. "We were going to do a demo with Malcolm, but Alan couldn't make it. Want to do it?"
Brandon tells him he's just there to hang out, but Shawsy says, "You can do it. I don't mind."
Brandon tells him it's going to be a while and asks if he's sure, and then tells Jonah he'll be up in a couple of minutes. He stops Shawsy on the stairs and tells him he doesn't have to stay. He can leave or go back downstairs. The one thing he can't do is interfere. Shawsy agrees to that, so they go the rest of the way up the stairs and Brandon puts Shawsy in a chair near where Malcolm is waiting. Then he has to trust Shawsy to stay out of the way or leave if he needs to, and he goes to talk to Malcolm.
A couple of people have followed them upstairs, and some of the other people already there gather around while Brandon and Malcolm are negotiating. It means they already have an audience that quiets down when they step up onto the large platform that serves as a stage of sorts.
Brandon rolls his shoulders and lets Malcolm mouth off at him for a moment, getting deeper into the right headspace for this. Malcolm goes down hard, fighting him the whole way. It's good, gets Brandon's blood flowing and his dick hard, even if that second one isn't the point of this tonight, gets him deep into a place where he's in charge, where this is his show.
Malcolm folds eventually, panting on his knees, Brandon standing over him.
"Are you going to be good for me now?" Brandon asks.
Malcolm takes in a last deep breath of rebellion, but settles when he lets it out and puts his hands behind his back. "Yes, Master Brandon."
Brandon pets his hair for a moment, letting Malcolm hide his face against Brandon's knee. "Good."
Malcolm gasps out, "Thank you, Master Brandon," and the tension that's been building around them dissipates with a sigh.
Brandon distantly registers people moving away, conversation starting up, but he's not done, so he crouches down and puts his arms around Malcolm. "You did good," he says. "You did so good for me." Jonah hands up a couple of bottles of water, and Brandon sits on the edge of the platform, drawing Malcolm over to sit half in his lap and drink down some water.
"Thanks," Malcolm says when he comes up a little.
"You're welcome." Brandon kisses his temple. "You were great." He hands Malcolm over to Jonah a couple of minutes later, and hops down from the platform to stretch and finish off his bottle of water.
Shawsy's still there, waiting more patiently than Brandon would have expected. He looks a little shell-shocked, though, and Brandon touches his arm gently. "Let's get out of here," he says. He waves across the room at Katy and Anna when they cross the bar, but doesn't stop.
He waits until they're in the car to say, "You can ask me questions if you want."
Shawsy laughs a little hysterically. "I can ask you questions?"
"If you want," Brandon says.
Shawsy stops laughing and takes a couple of gasping breaths. "I thought this was your scene," he finally says. "You didn't even get off."
"It's not always about sex," Brandon says. "Plus, you were waiting for me. If you weren't there, I might have taken him upstairs and made him suck me off. I don't do public sex."
Shawsy mutters something mostly made up of blasphemy and swear words. "That's really your scene."
"Yep."
"Is it because you're an enforcer?"
Brandon shrugs. "Not exactly. It gets at some of the same stuff, but it's different. Different context, different details. A fight's a fight. This is something else."
"I don't get it."
"You don't have to," Brandon says. "You wanted to know what my scene was. That was it." He glances over at Shawsy, who has a stubborn look on his face. "Think about it if you want," he says. "You can always ask me questions later. In private." He may or may not need to clarify that, but it can't hurt to remind Shawsy about the agreement he signed.
He drops Shawsy off and goes home to jerk off thinking about taking Malcolm down and what he would have made Malcolm do if Shawsy hadn't been there.
Brandon expects that to be it. He satisfied Shawsy's curiosity, and that should be enough.
*
They go on a road trip, Brandon goes to the club and does play with Katy and Anna, a bunch of the boys go to a Sox game one night, all the usual parts of Brandon's life.
He gets home one night, high on their win over the Avs and a little buzzed from the celebratory drinks with a couple of the boys after the game. Just the Avs, two points that matter but aren't crucial to their post-season hopes, not yet, so it was pretty chill. Brandon kind of wishes he'd gone to the club to pick up instead of going out, but, well, it won't be the first time he jerks off instead of making someone else get him off.
He answers his phone when it rings anyway, and the first thing Shawsy says is, "I jerked off."
"It's been, like, fifteen minutes since I last saw you. I don't think that's something to brag about."
Shawsy makes an impatient noise. "After you took me to the club. I jerked off thinking about it."
Brandon is definitely not sober enough to do this conversation the justice it deserves, but neither is Shawsy. He stays quiet for too long, and Shawsy makes another impatient noise. If he were Brandon's, Brandon would do something about that impatience.
"I was thinking about you," Shawsy says. "About how much it would take for you to make me get on my knees."
Brandon should really not let Shawsy goad him into anything, but he growls down the line, "You would fold so easily for me."
"You think so?" Shawsy asks, and it's half breathless. He probably has a hand down his pants right now.
"I know so," Brandon says, putting even more of a command into his voice. "You would get on your knees, and you would beg to stay there."
Shawsy moans, so obviously genuine and unpracticed that it snaps Brandon out of it.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I'm not going to do this," he tells Shawsy. "If you want to talk about it, we can do it when we're sober."
"No," Shawsy protests. "I'm so fucking close." And, God, he would get on his knees and beg to stay there. He's practically begging now, and Brandon hasn't even done anything to him.
Brandon knows better, but he still says, "I'm counting to thirty and then hanging up." He goes slow, one number per second, and he gets to seventeen before Shawsy comes. He keeps counting, listening to Shawsy pant between numbers, and hangs up after he says, "Thirty."
Fuck. Fuck, that was so hot. Brandon gets his pants open and his cock out and strips himself fast and hard, thinking about Shawsy fighting him, Shawsy on his knees, Shawsy desperate to come.
He cleans up and goes to bed, and even though he knows that was a bad idea, he can't bring himself to regret it.
*
Shawsy shows up early in the morning, ringing the buzzer until Brandon drags himself out of bed and lets him in. Brandon can't even chew him out for it, because the moment he opens his door, Shawsy shoves a cup of coffee at him, and then follows it up with a bag that smells like eggs.
Brandon lets Shawsy all the way in, and they sit down and eat eggs, bacon, and home fries from styrofoam containers.
Brandon's just finishing his last piece of bacon when Shawsy brings it up.
"It would take a lot for you to get me on my knees."
Again, Brandon knows better, but he lets Shawsy goad him into it. "It didn't take much to get you to fold last night."
Shawsy bares his teeth at Brandon. "Try me."
And, fuck, Brandon wants to. Because he wasn't thinking about it, not even after he took Shawsy to the club, but now that he is, he knows it would take less than Shawsy thinks it will, and he knows it would be a fucking joy to do. It would be work, and getting Shawsy to submit to him would be the sweetest reward for it.
Brandon takes a deep breath and sits back in his chair, consciously relaxing his body. "That's not how this works," he says. "You want to try it, we can try it, but not today and not now."
Shawsy scowls at him, and Brandon holds up a hand to stop him before he can open his mouth.
"We shouldn't have done what we did last night without negotiating, or at least talking about it. Let's make sure you still feel good about it in a couple of days. If you do, then we can talk about doing something else."
Shawsy protests, but this time Brandon doesn't let himself be goaded into reacting.
"There are rules to this," Brandon says. "We do it this way, or we don't do it at all."
Shawsy scowls at him some more, and when he leaves, his parting shot is, "I'm going to jerk off thinking about it a lot."
Brandon just smiles at him and says, "So am I," before he shuts the door.
He does it too, thinking about Shawsy coming when Brandon counted over the phone, about how much it's going to take to get Shawsy to submit, about how sweet it's going to be to have Shawsy thanking him for it. It's a good way to pass the time.
*
It takes longer than Brandon thought it would, four days instead of the one or two he was expecting, before Shawsy throws himself down into the seat next to Brandon on the plane and says, "I still feel good about it."
He's a fucking pain in Brandon's ass, doing this where other people can hear them, when they're on their way out of town for two days and they have a game the day after that.
"Thursday," Brandon says.
Shawsy nods, and then grins at him, more a showing of teeth than anything, and gets up when Hayesy comes to reclaim his seat. Fuck, he's going to be fun.
*
When Shawsy shows up on Thursday, Brandon starts out by feeding him. It's close enough to lunch time, and they're going to need the energy.
They negotiate while they eat: what Shawsy's willing to let Brandon do, Brandon's rules for how this is going to go, a safeword.
"This isn't the time to try to prove you're tough," Brandon says. "I know that. You use the word if you need to, if it's not what you want or if anything hurts in a bad way, and if you can't agree to that, then we really don't do this."
His tone must make it clear how serious he is about that, because Shawsy doesn't fight it, just looks Brandon dead in the eye, serious as anything, and says, "I can agree to that."
That's the end of what they have to talk about, so then they go into Brandon's bedroom and strip.
Brandon says, "Get on your knees," and Shawsy bares his teeth and says, "Make me."
Brandon doesn't use his full strength because there's a limit to how much he wants to hurt Shawsy, and Shawsy doesn't do everything he could, which means most of him doesn't actually want to win. There was no question about how it was eventually going to end, but it takes a while before Brandon has Shawsy facedown on his bed, Shawsy's arms twisted behind him with Brandon's hands on his wrists and Brandon's knee on his back, just at the top of the swell of his ass, keeping him there.
"Are you going to behave now?" Brandon asks.
There's a moment where he thinks Shawsy might fight for it again, but it passes, and Shawsy says, "Yes, Master Brandon."
Brandon's already hard, and Shawsy calling him that is enough that he has to take a couple of deep breaths to calm down a little.
He shifts his knee off of Shawsy, slowly so he can put it back if this is just a ploy. Shawsy stays put, so Brandon shuffles to the side, so he can see Shawsy's face, half mashed into the bed, and still keep his grip on Shawsy's wrists.
It's really too bad anal wasn't on the list of things Shawsy was willing to do today; his ass is fantastic, and Brandon wants to fuck him down into the mattress just like this. Maybe another time. For now, his eyes catch on Shawsy's mouth. Thin lips, not the kind that would usually make Brandon think he wants them around his dick, but Shawsy's mouth is open, and he's looking up at Brandon.
"You ever suck cock?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy's throat works as he swallows before he says, "No."
"But you've wanted to," Brandon says, not a question this time. He turns Shawsy over, onto his back with his arms trapped under him. Shawsy's chest, already arched, expands with every breath.
Brandon swings one leg over Shawsy and kneels, knees just above Shawsy's shoulders, legs just on either side of Shawsy's arms. "I'm going to let you," he promises, and then he lowers himself down, hand on his dick to guide it into Shawsy's mouth. He gives Shawsy a minute to get used to it, figure out what he has to do with his mouth, before he moves. He doesn't fuck Shawsy's mouth the way he wants to, not the first time, but he sets up a gentle in and out rhythm, and he puts his hand on Shawsy's cheek.
"That's good," he says. "Just keep that up. You're taking it so well for me, Andy."
Shawsy moans, deep in his throat, and if Brandon's going to come soon anyway, that just pushes him closer. He fucks into Shawsy's mouth a couple more times, and he barely remembers to tap Shawsy's cheek to warn him when he's about to come.
Shawsy swallows, so good now that he's been put down. He doesn't get it all, and Brandon watches the rest of it drip down his face when he pulls his cock out of Shawsy's mouth.
Shawsy tries futilely to lick some of it up, but he doesn't even try to move his hands, so mostly it stays on his face. It's a good look for him.
Brandon gets off of Shawsy, sitting down next to him and raking his eyes over Shawsy's body, come-covered face, chest arched over his hands under him, cock curving up hard and red.
Brandon wraps his hand around the base of Shawsy's cock and draws it all the way up and off. Shawsy makes a sound like the air's been punched out of him.
"How badly do you want to come?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy swears at him, but doesn't move. "So fucking bad, please, fuck, please, Master Brandon."
And that's good enough, Shawsy begging him and calling him Master Brandon. Brandon wraps his hand around Shawsy's cock, and this time he doesn't let go when he gets to the head, keeps holding on and stroking him while Shawsy whines and writhes as much as his position will let him move.
"You've been so good for me," Brandon says, and it's true. Shawsy fought, but he fought clean and Brandon got to take him down. His submission since then has been everything Brandon could want. "I want you to come for me now." It takes a few more strokes of his hand - maybe they can work on that - before Shawsy does, arching off the bed and babbling wordless nonsense as he shoots across his belly.
Shawsy collapses down onto the bed after, and Brandon keeps stroking him until Shawsy is whining and twitching away from him. He stops then, and grabs a tissue to wipe his hands before he guides Shawsy into sliding his arms out from under his body.
"Careful," he says. "Your shoulders are going to be stiff." He rubs them for Shawsy, digging his fingers into the muscles and the heels of his hands into the dips on either side of his collarbones.
Shawsy closes his eyes, come still streaking his face, and lets Brandon move him around a little, making sure his muscles are loose enough they won't hurt later.
"How do you feel?"
Shawsy opens his eyes halfway, and smiles, slow and lazy. "Awesome," he says. "Can we do that again?"
Brandon chuckles. "Let's see how you feel after you drop in a couple of days." He stops worrying about Shawsy for the moment, though, and runs a hand through his hair. "What do you want now? You want to cuddle, or you want some space?"
Shawsy has his eyes closed again. "Are you going to give me shit if I want to cuddle?"
"Nope, not how this works." Brandon slides down the bed so he's lying next to Shawsy. "You want me to wipe the come off your face first?"
"No," Shawsy says. "Unless it's bothering you."
"Not bothering me at all." Brandon pulls Shawsy in and arranges them so they can cuddle comfortably. "Good?"
"Mmmmhmmm." Shawsy turns his head, smearing come on Brandon's shoulder, and kisses Brandon's collarbone. "Thanks, Master Brandon."
*
Brandon keeps an eye on Shawsy for a couple of days, watching him work off the adrenaline and endorphins, so he's ready for it when Shawsy shows up for bus call looking tired and unhappy. He can't do much with the whole team milling around, but he does go over and squeeze Shawsy's shoulders. Shawsy leans into it for a couple of seconds before he jerks away. Brandon lets him go, and leaves him alone for the short ride to the airport.
Shawsy takes his usual seat next to Leds on the plane. Brandon sits with Hayesy, but is waiting for it when Shawsy sulks down the aisle to them and tells Hayesy to switch places with him.
"Your choice," Brandon asks, eyeing Shawsy's continued sulk, "or Leds kick you out?"
Shawsy just grunts at him. Leds kicked him out then.
"You eat yet?"
"No," Shawsy says, still sulky.
Brandon holds in any kind of reproach and just makes Shawsy stand up and let him out. "Switch places with me while we're up," Brandon says.
Shawsy looks at him even weirder for that, but when Brandon comes back with two plates and a couple of Gatorades tucked under his arm, Shawsy's in the window seat.
When Shawsy's done eating all of his food and half of Brandon's, Brandon rings for their flight attendant to take their dishes and asks her for a couple of blankets and a pillow.
Shawsy grumbles at him about it, but Brandon just taps his wrist and says, "Hey, this is normal. The best thing for you right now is to eat and sleep and let your body heal."
Shawsy makes an annoyed noise. "I was fine yesterday."
"You were still high on endorphins yesterday," Brandon says. "You know it can take your body a while to come down from that."
Shawsy grumbles at him some more but falls asleep ten minutes later with his head on Brandon's shoulder. He doesn't wake up until they're landing, and then he rubs his face on Brandon's shoulder. If they weren't surrounded by their entire team, Brandon would be a little more gentle with him, but as it is, he pushes Shawsy upright and leaves him to stay that way while he wakes up and they land.
They go straight from the airport to the hotel - they had practice earlier, so nothing they have to do now until tomorrow morning. They break into their usual groups in the lobby to make plans for dinner, and Brandon tugs Shawsy away from Kaner, Leds, and Hayesy.
"What?" Shawsy demands.
Brandon puts a hand on his shoulder. Contact is good. Shawsy probably needs that, and Brandon likes it. "Do you really want to go out with them? Come up to my room, we'll order room service and watch whatever's on TV."
Shawsy looks like he's going to argue, probably just for the sake of arguing, but then he slumps and says, "Yeah, that sounds good."
Brandon squeezes his shoulder and tells the other guys, "We're bailing," and answers the chirps he gets in response with good humor but without letting them talk him out of it.
They hang around the lobby a little longer anyway, jawing with the boys until people start grabbing snacks and room keys and heading upstairs.
Shawsy follows Brandon to his room, and throws himself down on one of the beds as soon as they're in it. "What the fuck, man? I just slept all day."
It was at most two hours, but Brandon doesn't say that. He sits down next to Shawsy where he can run his hand through Shawsy's hair. "Sub drop," he says. "Your body was pretty keyed up, and now it's crashing."
"How come you're not crashing?" Shawsy sounds grouchy, but he's leaning into Brandon's touch, and he rolls closer so he's lying against Brandon's leg.
"Different experience," Brandon says. "I knew what it was going to be like, and it wasn't as intense for me as it was for you."
Shawsy tips his head to look up at him. "If it was, would you be crashing too?"
"Yep." Brandon rubs his fingers over Shawsy's scalp.
"Huh." Shawsy puts his head down, nestling even closer to Brandon's hip. "What about that guy from the club?"
"Malcolm," Brandon says. "I checked in with him a couple of times afterwards. He's been in the scene for a long time, so he knew what to expect, and he has a dom who could be with him when he needed it."
"So what am I supposed to do?" Shawsy asks. "Just sleep until I feel better?"
"Sleep," Brandon says, "eat, take care of yourself." He runs his fingers down to rub behind Shawsy's ear, down his neck. "Or let me take care of you."
"Yeah," Shawsy says. "Okay. You're good at it."
"You're being good at letting me," Brandon says. That puts a tired smile on Shawsy's face. Shawsy wanted to cuddle before, and seems to want to be close now, so Brandon slides down the bed until he's lying next to Shawsy and can pull him into his arms. Shawsy curls right up with him, head on Brandon's shoulder, body half covering Brandon's.
Brandon runs his hand up and down Shawsy's back, a touch that's as comforting for him as he means it to be for Shawsy. Shawsy dozes off for at least a while, and Brandon just drifts, being there for Shawsy, the other part of being a dom, until he glances over at the clock and it's been the better part of an hour. Then he nudges at Shawsy's shoulder.
"Time for dinner," Brandon says. "What do you want? Or do you just want me to pick something?"
Shawsy rubs his face against Brandon's shoulder, then rolls away, knuckling at his eyes like a kid. "You pick."
Brandon rubs his arm, then gets up to find the room service menu. While he's ordering, Shawsy rolls off the bed and takes his shaving kit into the bathroom. Brandon can hear the shower go on, and Shawsy comes out in a towel a little later. He rummages through his bag, and then drops his towel to change into clothes. He ends up, a few minutes later, in sweats, a long-sleeve t-shirt, a hoodie, and socks. Brandon's not sure if that's for comfort or warmth, but he's willing to give Shawsy whichever one he wants from him.
They sit against the headboard of one of the beds to eat, and Brandon finds an action movie on TV for them to watch, and a CSI rerun after that. Then he turns off the TV, gathers up their plates to put outside the door, and changes into pajama pants and a t-shirt.
They take turns brushing their teeth and then Brandon turns out the lights and gets into bed with Shawsy. Shawsy has the hood of his hoodie pulled all the way up over his hair. Bandon still doesn't know if that's for warmth or comfort, but he pulls him close to give him more of whichever he needs.
*
Shawsy's already up when Brandon wakes up in the morning, sitting on the end of the bed in a t-shirt and jeans with the TV on but the sound all the way down.
"Hey," Brandon says, and Shawsy turns to look at him. "How do you feel?"
"Good," Shawsy says. "Hungry." He grins fiercely. "Ready to kick ass tonight."
Brandon smiles back at him. "Good." He sits up and shuffles toward the end of the bed so he can hook his arm around Shawsy's shoulders. He hugs him close for a minute and kisses the side of his head. "You going down for breakfast?"
"I was waiting for you."
It could just be because they're friends, but Brandon feels it like Shawsy being a good sub for him. He kisses the side of Shawsy's head again. "Give me a couple of minutes, and then we can eat."
*
They win their game, and the next two, and fly home happy, if tired.
Brandon's phone rings when he's on his way down the hall to his apartment. He checks the screen and then answers it.
"I just saw you," he says to Shawsy.
"I know," Shawsy says. "Would you take me to the club again?"
Brandon unlocks his door and stops inside the door to take off his coat. "Do you want to go?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Shawsy says.
Brandon waits it out; he asked because once he gets Shawsy talking, Shawsy will tell him whatever's going on in his head.
"I didn't really know what I was looking at last time," Shawsy says. "I want to see what it's like now that I know a little bit of it. And," he adds, sounding more hesitant about this part, "I liked what we did, even after I dropped later, and I want to see what else I might want to do."
Brandon pauses in the middle of the living room and closes his eyes. He could make a list of what else he might want to do with Shawsy.
"Okay," he says. "Friday? We could go Tuesday, but there won't be as many people there." He rolls his suitcase into his bedroom and takes out his shaving kit. He can unpack the rest in the morning.
"Friday's good," Shawsy says. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Brandon says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and asks, "Did you want something else?" when Shawsy doesn't say anything.
"I want a lot of things," Shawsy says with a laugh. "Nah, go to bed."
"Thanks for your permission," Brandon says dryly. "See you tomorrow." He tosses his phone onto his bed and gets out of the rest of his suit. He pauses in the bathroom to brush his teeth, pulls on some pajama pants, and picks his phone up to set the alarm when he gets into bed. There's a text from Shawsy that's just a row of smiley faces. Brandon shakes his head over it - what has he gotten himself into? - and then sets his alarm and goes to sleep.
Part 2
I really like this story! But it needed work that I lost interest in doing, both rewriting the beginning and doing fighting research for the kink escalation it needed in the middle. I feel guilty about abandoning it since a couple of friends were kind enough to read through it and help figure out what it needed, but it's time to admit I'm never coming back to it. If I'd finished it, the title probably would have been "A side of love you've never known" from Jason Derulo's "In My Head."
Brandon will flirt when they go out, maybe make out in a dark corner if there's some girl who seems into it. He doesn't pick up, though, and so far it hasn't been noticeable enough that anyone's chirped him for it.
Figures that it would be Shawsy who notices. "You never hook up when we go out. What's up with that?"
Brandon shrugs. "Not my scene."
Shawsy narrows his eyes suspiciously at him, but lets it go for the moment.
*
Sometime later, they run into someone Brandon knows, someone he's played with. She's his favorite kind of sub, mouthy and aggressive, has to be made to submit. She throws out what's a clear challenge to him, and he holds up his beer in an apologetic no. She shrugs and tells him to call her, and walks away.
"Damn," Shawsy says. "I bet she's wild in bed."
Brandon thinks about her twisting under him, pinned down by his body, begging for his cock and chanting out breathless thank-yous when he gave it to her. He shrugs and doesn't confirm or deny to Shawsy.
*
Shawsy doesn't give up, because he wouldn't be Shawsy if he did. He pesters Brandon about it off and on, like he thinks Brandon will tell him if Shawsy catches him at the right moment. It doesn't work that way, but Brandon finally caves anyway.
He calls Shawsy to ask, "Do you really want to know what my scene is?" three days after the last time Shawsy bugged him about it.
Shawsy jumps at the chance, and Brandon forestalls his excitement by saying, "You're going to have to sign a confidentiality agreement."
Shawsy laughs. "A confidentiality agreement? Are you into hookers? Are we going to a kinky sex club?"
Brandon doesn't answer, and Shawsy stops laughing. "Wait, for real, are we going to a kinky sex club?"
"If you sign the agreement," Brandon says, "you can find out."
Shawsy signs and Brandon explains it to him in the car on the way there as, "A private club, for people who have similar interests."
"A kinky sex club," Shawsy says cheerfully, and Brandon gives up on explanations and reiterates the importance of privacy, and also not acting like an asshole.
Brandon knows the man on duty at the front desk, and he flirts a little while they check in. They hand over Shawsy's signed confidentiality agreement and Brandon signs in for himself and to take responsibility for Shawsy being here.
"The first floor," Brandon says as he opens the door into it, "is a bar. No alcohol because it's not a good idea. It's more a place for people to hang out. Second floor is a public play area. Third and fourth floors have private rooms." He's not sure Shawsy gets all that, because he's too busy looking around the room.
Brandon sighs and nudges his arm to get his attention before leading him across the room to the bar. He gets them a couple of bottles of water and goes over to a partially occupied table.
"Brandon!"
Brandon leans over and kisses Katy's cheek. He takes the chair next to her, Shawsy on his other side. "Hi."
"Been a while," Katy says. She looks down at the girl practically trembling at her feet. "Go on, you can say hi to Master Brandon."
Anna scoots over toward him. "Hi, Master Brandon."
"Hi, kitten." Brandon pets her hair. "Have you been a good girl since I last saw you?"
"Yes," she says.
"Have you?" Brandon pulls her hair just enough to tip her head up toward him. "What have you done since I last saw you?"
Anna bites her lip. "I finished two chapters of my dissertation."
"Good girl." Brandon hauls her halfway up into his lap and kisses her deep and wet, like he knows she likes it. He sets her back down and gives her a push so she shuffles back to kneel at Katy's feet.
"Nice," Katy says. "Now that you worked her up, you wanna have some fun with us?"
"Nah," Brandon says. "Not here to play. Just showing Andy the place."
"Too bad," Katy says, and then they chat a little while Shawsy does a fairly good job of not staring. He's obviously a newbie, but he's not being rude about it.
A couple of other people show up to chat with Brandon, and then Jonah comes over and leans down, one hand on the back of Brandon's chair. "We were going to do a demo with Malcolm, but Alan couldn't make it. Want to do it?"
Brandon tells him he's just there to hang out, but Shawsy says, "You can do it. I don't mind."
Brandon tells him it's going to be a while and asks if he's sure, and then tells Jonah he'll be up in a couple of minutes. He stops Shawsy on the stairs and tells him he doesn't have to stay. He can leave or go back downstairs. The one thing he can't do is interfere. Shawsy agrees to that, so they go the rest of the way up the stairs and Brandon puts Shawsy in a chair near where Malcolm is waiting. Then he has to trust Shawsy to stay out of the way or leave if he needs to, and he goes to talk to Malcolm.
A couple of people have followed them upstairs, and some of the other people already there gather around while Brandon and Malcolm are negotiating. It means they already have an audience that quiets down when they step up onto the large platform that serves as a stage of sorts.
Brandon rolls his shoulders and lets Malcolm mouth off at him for a moment, getting deeper into the right headspace for this. Malcolm goes down hard, fighting him the whole way. It's good, gets Brandon's blood flowing and his dick hard, even if that second one isn't the point of this tonight, gets him deep into a place where he's in charge, where this is his show.
Malcolm folds eventually, panting on his knees, Brandon standing over him.
"Are you going to be good for me now?" Brandon asks.
Malcolm takes in a last deep breath of rebellion, but settles when he lets it out and puts his hands behind his back. "Yes, Master Brandon."
Brandon pets his hair for a moment, letting Malcolm hide his face against Brandon's knee. "Good."
Malcolm gasps out, "Thank you, Master Brandon," and the tension that's been building around them dissipates with a sigh.
Brandon distantly registers people moving away, conversation starting up, but he's not done, so he crouches down and puts his arms around Malcolm. "You did good," he says. "You did so good for me." Jonah hands up a couple of bottles of water, and Brandon sits on the edge of the platform, drawing Malcolm over to sit half in his lap and drink down some water.
"Thanks," Malcolm says when he comes up a little.
"You're welcome." Brandon kisses his temple. "You were great." He hands Malcolm over to Jonah a couple of minutes later, and hops down from the platform to stretch and finish off his bottle of water.
Shawsy's still there, waiting more patiently than Brandon would have expected. He looks a little shell-shocked, though, and Brandon touches his arm gently. "Let's get out of here," he says. He waves across the room at Katy and Anna when they cross the bar, but doesn't stop.
He waits until they're in the car to say, "You can ask me questions if you want."
Shawsy laughs a little hysterically. "I can ask you questions?"
"If you want," Brandon says.
Shawsy stops laughing and takes a couple of gasping breaths. "I thought this was your scene," he finally says. "You didn't even get off."
"It's not always about sex," Brandon says. "Plus, you were waiting for me. If you weren't there, I might have taken him upstairs and made him suck me off. I don't do public sex."
Shawsy mutters something mostly made up of blasphemy and swear words. "That's really your scene."
"Yep."
"Is it because you're an enforcer?"
Brandon shrugs. "Not exactly. It gets at some of the same stuff, but it's different. Different context, different details. A fight's a fight. This is something else."
"I don't get it."
"You don't have to," Brandon says. "You wanted to know what my scene was. That was it." He glances over at Shawsy, who has a stubborn look on his face. "Think about it if you want," he says. "You can always ask me questions later. In private." He may or may not need to clarify that, but it can't hurt to remind Shawsy about the agreement he signed.
He drops Shawsy off and goes home to jerk off thinking about taking Malcolm down and what he would have made Malcolm do if Shawsy hadn't been there.
Brandon expects that to be it. He satisfied Shawsy's curiosity, and that should be enough.
*
They go on a road trip, Brandon goes to the club and does play with Katy and Anna, a bunch of the boys go to a Sox game one night, all the usual parts of Brandon's life.
He gets home one night, high on their win over the Avs and a little buzzed from the celebratory drinks with a couple of the boys after the game. Just the Avs, two points that matter but aren't crucial to their post-season hopes, not yet, so it was pretty chill. Brandon kind of wishes he'd gone to the club to pick up instead of going out, but, well, it won't be the first time he jerks off instead of making someone else get him off.
He answers his phone when it rings anyway, and the first thing Shawsy says is, "I jerked off."
"It's been, like, fifteen minutes since I last saw you. I don't think that's something to brag about."
Shawsy makes an impatient noise. "After you took me to the club. I jerked off thinking about it."
Brandon is definitely not sober enough to do this conversation the justice it deserves, but neither is Shawsy. He stays quiet for too long, and Shawsy makes another impatient noise. If he were Brandon's, Brandon would do something about that impatience.
"I was thinking about you," Shawsy says. "About how much it would take for you to make me get on my knees."
Brandon should really not let Shawsy goad him into anything, but he growls down the line, "You would fold so easily for me."
"You think so?" Shawsy asks, and it's half breathless. He probably has a hand down his pants right now.
"I know so," Brandon says, putting even more of a command into his voice. "You would get on your knees, and you would beg to stay there."
Shawsy moans, so obviously genuine and unpracticed that it snaps Brandon out of it.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I'm not going to do this," he tells Shawsy. "If you want to talk about it, we can do it when we're sober."
"No," Shawsy protests. "I'm so fucking close." And, God, he would get on his knees and beg to stay there. He's practically begging now, and Brandon hasn't even done anything to him.
Brandon knows better, but he still says, "I'm counting to thirty and then hanging up." He goes slow, one number per second, and he gets to seventeen before Shawsy comes. He keeps counting, listening to Shawsy pant between numbers, and hangs up after he says, "Thirty."
Fuck. Fuck, that was so hot. Brandon gets his pants open and his cock out and strips himself fast and hard, thinking about Shawsy fighting him, Shawsy on his knees, Shawsy desperate to come.
He cleans up and goes to bed, and even though he knows that was a bad idea, he can't bring himself to regret it.
*
Shawsy shows up early in the morning, ringing the buzzer until Brandon drags himself out of bed and lets him in. Brandon can't even chew him out for it, because the moment he opens his door, Shawsy shoves a cup of coffee at him, and then follows it up with a bag that smells like eggs.
Brandon lets Shawsy all the way in, and they sit down and eat eggs, bacon, and home fries from styrofoam containers.
Brandon's just finishing his last piece of bacon when Shawsy brings it up.
"It would take a lot for you to get me on my knees."
Again, Brandon knows better, but he lets Shawsy goad him into it. "It didn't take much to get you to fold last night."
Shawsy bares his teeth at Brandon. "Try me."
And, fuck, Brandon wants to. Because he wasn't thinking about it, not even after he took Shawsy to the club, but now that he is, he knows it would take less than Shawsy thinks it will, and he knows it would be a fucking joy to do. It would be work, and getting Shawsy to submit to him would be the sweetest reward for it.
Brandon takes a deep breath and sits back in his chair, consciously relaxing his body. "That's not how this works," he says. "You want to try it, we can try it, but not today and not now."
Shawsy scowls at him, and Brandon holds up a hand to stop him before he can open his mouth.
"We shouldn't have done what we did last night without negotiating, or at least talking about it. Let's make sure you still feel good about it in a couple of days. If you do, then we can talk about doing something else."
Shawsy protests, but this time Brandon doesn't let himself be goaded into reacting.
"There are rules to this," Brandon says. "We do it this way, or we don't do it at all."
Shawsy scowls at him some more, and when he leaves, his parting shot is, "I'm going to jerk off thinking about it a lot."
Brandon just smiles at him and says, "So am I," before he shuts the door.
He does it too, thinking about Shawsy coming when Brandon counted over the phone, about how much it's going to take to get Shawsy to submit, about how sweet it's going to be to have Shawsy thanking him for it. It's a good way to pass the time.
*
It takes longer than Brandon thought it would, four days instead of the one or two he was expecting, before Shawsy throws himself down into the seat next to Brandon on the plane and says, "I still feel good about it."
He's a fucking pain in Brandon's ass, doing this where other people can hear them, when they're on their way out of town for two days and they have a game the day after that.
"Thursday," Brandon says.
Shawsy nods, and then grins at him, more a showing of teeth than anything, and gets up when Hayesy comes to reclaim his seat. Fuck, he's going to be fun.
*
When Shawsy shows up on Thursday, Brandon starts out by feeding him. It's close enough to lunch time, and they're going to need the energy.
They negotiate while they eat: what Shawsy's willing to let Brandon do, Brandon's rules for how this is going to go, a safeword.
"This isn't the time to try to prove you're tough," Brandon says. "I know that. You use the word if you need to, if it's not what you want or if anything hurts in a bad way, and if you can't agree to that, then we really don't do this."
His tone must make it clear how serious he is about that, because Shawsy doesn't fight it, just looks Brandon dead in the eye, serious as anything, and says, "I can agree to that."
That's the end of what they have to talk about, so then they go into Brandon's bedroom and strip.
Brandon says, "Get on your knees," and Shawsy bares his teeth and says, "Make me."
Brandon doesn't use his full strength because there's a limit to how much he wants to hurt Shawsy, and Shawsy doesn't do everything he could, which means most of him doesn't actually want to win. There was no question about how it was eventually going to end, but it takes a while before Brandon has Shawsy facedown on his bed, Shawsy's arms twisted behind him with Brandon's hands on his wrists and Brandon's knee on his back, just at the top of the swell of his ass, keeping him there.
"Are you going to behave now?" Brandon asks.
There's a moment where he thinks Shawsy might fight for it again, but it passes, and Shawsy says, "Yes, Master Brandon."
Brandon's already hard, and Shawsy calling him that is enough that he has to take a couple of deep breaths to calm down a little.
He shifts his knee off of Shawsy, slowly so he can put it back if this is just a ploy. Shawsy stays put, so Brandon shuffles to the side, so he can see Shawsy's face, half mashed into the bed, and still keep his grip on Shawsy's wrists.
It's really too bad anal wasn't on the list of things Shawsy was willing to do today; his ass is fantastic, and Brandon wants to fuck him down into the mattress just like this. Maybe another time. For now, his eyes catch on Shawsy's mouth. Thin lips, not the kind that would usually make Brandon think he wants them around his dick, but Shawsy's mouth is open, and he's looking up at Brandon.
"You ever suck cock?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy's throat works as he swallows before he says, "No."
"But you've wanted to," Brandon says, not a question this time. He turns Shawsy over, onto his back with his arms trapped under him. Shawsy's chest, already arched, expands with every breath.
Brandon swings one leg over Shawsy and kneels, knees just above Shawsy's shoulders, legs just on either side of Shawsy's arms. "I'm going to let you," he promises, and then he lowers himself down, hand on his dick to guide it into Shawsy's mouth. He gives Shawsy a minute to get used to it, figure out what he has to do with his mouth, before he moves. He doesn't fuck Shawsy's mouth the way he wants to, not the first time, but he sets up a gentle in and out rhythm, and he puts his hand on Shawsy's cheek.
"That's good," he says. "Just keep that up. You're taking it so well for me, Andy."
Shawsy moans, deep in his throat, and if Brandon's going to come soon anyway, that just pushes him closer. He fucks into Shawsy's mouth a couple more times, and he barely remembers to tap Shawsy's cheek to warn him when he's about to come.
Shawsy swallows, so good now that he's been put down. He doesn't get it all, and Brandon watches the rest of it drip down his face when he pulls his cock out of Shawsy's mouth.
Shawsy tries futilely to lick some of it up, but he doesn't even try to move his hands, so mostly it stays on his face. It's a good look for him.
Brandon gets off of Shawsy, sitting down next to him and raking his eyes over Shawsy's body, come-covered face, chest arched over his hands under him, cock curving up hard and red.
Brandon wraps his hand around the base of Shawsy's cock and draws it all the way up and off. Shawsy makes a sound like the air's been punched out of him.
"How badly do you want to come?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy swears at him, but doesn't move. "So fucking bad, please, fuck, please, Master Brandon."
And that's good enough, Shawsy begging him and calling him Master Brandon. Brandon wraps his hand around Shawsy's cock, and this time he doesn't let go when he gets to the head, keeps holding on and stroking him while Shawsy whines and writhes as much as his position will let him move.
"You've been so good for me," Brandon says, and it's true. Shawsy fought, but he fought clean and Brandon got to take him down. His submission since then has been everything Brandon could want. "I want you to come for me now." It takes a few more strokes of his hand - maybe they can work on that - before Shawsy does, arching off the bed and babbling wordless nonsense as he shoots across his belly.
Shawsy collapses down onto the bed after, and Brandon keeps stroking him until Shawsy is whining and twitching away from him. He stops then, and grabs a tissue to wipe his hands before he guides Shawsy into sliding his arms out from under his body.
"Careful," he says. "Your shoulders are going to be stiff." He rubs them for Shawsy, digging his fingers into the muscles and the heels of his hands into the dips on either side of his collarbones.
Shawsy closes his eyes, come still streaking his face, and lets Brandon move him around a little, making sure his muscles are loose enough they won't hurt later.
"How do you feel?"
Shawsy opens his eyes halfway, and smiles, slow and lazy. "Awesome," he says. "Can we do that again?"
Brandon chuckles. "Let's see how you feel after you drop in a couple of days." He stops worrying about Shawsy for the moment, though, and runs a hand through his hair. "What do you want now? You want to cuddle, or you want some space?"
Shawsy has his eyes closed again. "Are you going to give me shit if I want to cuddle?"
"Nope, not how this works." Brandon slides down the bed so he's lying next to Shawsy. "You want me to wipe the come off your face first?"
"No," Shawsy says. "Unless it's bothering you."
"Not bothering me at all." Brandon pulls Shawsy in and arranges them so they can cuddle comfortably. "Good?"
"Mmmmhmmm." Shawsy turns his head, smearing come on Brandon's shoulder, and kisses Brandon's collarbone. "Thanks, Master Brandon."
*
Brandon keeps an eye on Shawsy for a couple of days, watching him work off the adrenaline and endorphins, so he's ready for it when Shawsy shows up for bus call looking tired and unhappy. He can't do much with the whole team milling around, but he does go over and squeeze Shawsy's shoulders. Shawsy leans into it for a couple of seconds before he jerks away. Brandon lets him go, and leaves him alone for the short ride to the airport.
Shawsy takes his usual seat next to Leds on the plane. Brandon sits with Hayesy, but is waiting for it when Shawsy sulks down the aisle to them and tells Hayesy to switch places with him.
"Your choice," Brandon asks, eyeing Shawsy's continued sulk, "or Leds kick you out?"
Shawsy just grunts at him. Leds kicked him out then.
"You eat yet?"
"No," Shawsy says, still sulky.
Brandon holds in any kind of reproach and just makes Shawsy stand up and let him out. "Switch places with me while we're up," Brandon says.
Shawsy looks at him even weirder for that, but when Brandon comes back with two plates and a couple of Gatorades tucked under his arm, Shawsy's in the window seat.
When Shawsy's done eating all of his food and half of Brandon's, Brandon rings for their flight attendant to take their dishes and asks her for a couple of blankets and a pillow.
Shawsy grumbles at him about it, but Brandon just taps his wrist and says, "Hey, this is normal. The best thing for you right now is to eat and sleep and let your body heal."
Shawsy makes an annoyed noise. "I was fine yesterday."
"You were still high on endorphins yesterday," Brandon says. "You know it can take your body a while to come down from that."
Shawsy grumbles at him some more but falls asleep ten minutes later with his head on Brandon's shoulder. He doesn't wake up until they're landing, and then he rubs his face on Brandon's shoulder. If they weren't surrounded by their entire team, Brandon would be a little more gentle with him, but as it is, he pushes Shawsy upright and leaves him to stay that way while he wakes up and they land.
They go straight from the airport to the hotel - they had practice earlier, so nothing they have to do now until tomorrow morning. They break into their usual groups in the lobby to make plans for dinner, and Brandon tugs Shawsy away from Kaner, Leds, and Hayesy.
"What?" Shawsy demands.
Brandon puts a hand on his shoulder. Contact is good. Shawsy probably needs that, and Brandon likes it. "Do you really want to go out with them? Come up to my room, we'll order room service and watch whatever's on TV."
Shawsy looks like he's going to argue, probably just for the sake of arguing, but then he slumps and says, "Yeah, that sounds good."
Brandon squeezes his shoulder and tells the other guys, "We're bailing," and answers the chirps he gets in response with good humor but without letting them talk him out of it.
They hang around the lobby a little longer anyway, jawing with the boys until people start grabbing snacks and room keys and heading upstairs.
Shawsy follows Brandon to his room, and throws himself down on one of the beds as soon as they're in it. "What the fuck, man? I just slept all day."
It was at most two hours, but Brandon doesn't say that. He sits down next to Shawsy where he can run his hand through Shawsy's hair. "Sub drop," he says. "Your body was pretty keyed up, and now it's crashing."
"How come you're not crashing?" Shawsy sounds grouchy, but he's leaning into Brandon's touch, and he rolls closer so he's lying against Brandon's leg.
"Different experience," Brandon says. "I knew what it was going to be like, and it wasn't as intense for me as it was for you."
Shawsy tips his head to look up at him. "If it was, would you be crashing too?"
"Yep." Brandon rubs his fingers over Shawsy's scalp.
"Huh." Shawsy puts his head down, nestling even closer to Brandon's hip. "What about that guy from the club?"
"Malcolm," Brandon says. "I checked in with him a couple of times afterwards. He's been in the scene for a long time, so he knew what to expect, and he has a dom who could be with him when he needed it."
"So what am I supposed to do?" Shawsy asks. "Just sleep until I feel better?"
"Sleep," Brandon says, "eat, take care of yourself." He runs his fingers down to rub behind Shawsy's ear, down his neck. "Or let me take care of you."
"Yeah," Shawsy says. "Okay. You're good at it."
"You're being good at letting me," Brandon says. That puts a tired smile on Shawsy's face. Shawsy wanted to cuddle before, and seems to want to be close now, so Brandon slides down the bed until he's lying next to Shawsy and can pull him into his arms. Shawsy curls right up with him, head on Brandon's shoulder, body half covering Brandon's.
Brandon runs his hand up and down Shawsy's back, a touch that's as comforting for him as he means it to be for Shawsy. Shawsy dozes off for at least a while, and Brandon just drifts, being there for Shawsy, the other part of being a dom, until he glances over at the clock and it's been the better part of an hour. Then he nudges at Shawsy's shoulder.
"Time for dinner," Brandon says. "What do you want? Or do you just want me to pick something?"
Shawsy rubs his face against Brandon's shoulder, then rolls away, knuckling at his eyes like a kid. "You pick."
Brandon rubs his arm, then gets up to find the room service menu. While he's ordering, Shawsy rolls off the bed and takes his shaving kit into the bathroom. Brandon can hear the shower go on, and Shawsy comes out in a towel a little later. He rummages through his bag, and then drops his towel to change into clothes. He ends up, a few minutes later, in sweats, a long-sleeve t-shirt, a hoodie, and socks. Brandon's not sure if that's for comfort or warmth, but he's willing to give Shawsy whichever one he wants from him.
They sit against the headboard of one of the beds to eat, and Brandon finds an action movie on TV for them to watch, and a CSI rerun after that. Then he turns off the TV, gathers up their plates to put outside the door, and changes into pajama pants and a t-shirt.
They take turns brushing their teeth and then Brandon turns out the lights and gets into bed with Shawsy. Shawsy has the hood of his hoodie pulled all the way up over his hair. Bandon still doesn't know if that's for warmth or comfort, but he pulls him close to give him more of whichever he needs.
*
Shawsy's already up when Brandon wakes up in the morning, sitting on the end of the bed in a t-shirt and jeans with the TV on but the sound all the way down.
"Hey," Brandon says, and Shawsy turns to look at him. "How do you feel?"
"Good," Shawsy says. "Hungry." He grins fiercely. "Ready to kick ass tonight."
Brandon smiles back at him. "Good." He sits up and shuffles toward the end of the bed so he can hook his arm around Shawsy's shoulders. He hugs him close for a minute and kisses the side of his head. "You going down for breakfast?"
"I was waiting for you."
It could just be because they're friends, but Brandon feels it like Shawsy being a good sub for him. He kisses the side of Shawsy's head again. "Give me a couple of minutes, and then we can eat."
*
They win their game, and the next two, and fly home happy, if tired.
Brandon's phone rings when he's on his way down the hall to his apartment. He checks the screen and then answers it.
"I just saw you," he says to Shawsy.
"I know," Shawsy says. "Would you take me to the club again?"
Brandon unlocks his door and stops inside the door to take off his coat. "Do you want to go?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Shawsy says.
Brandon waits it out; he asked because once he gets Shawsy talking, Shawsy will tell him whatever's going on in his head.
"I didn't really know what I was looking at last time," Shawsy says. "I want to see what it's like now that I know a little bit of it. And," he adds, sounding more hesitant about this part, "I liked what we did, even after I dropped later, and I want to see what else I might want to do."
Brandon pauses in the middle of the living room and closes his eyes. He could make a list of what else he might want to do with Shawsy.
"Okay," he says. "Friday? We could go Tuesday, but there won't be as many people there." He rolls his suitcase into his bedroom and takes out his shaving kit. He can unpack the rest in the morning.
"Friday's good," Shawsy says. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Brandon says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and asks, "Did you want something else?" when Shawsy doesn't say anything.
"I want a lot of things," Shawsy says with a laugh. "Nah, go to bed."
"Thanks for your permission," Brandon says dryly. "See you tomorrow." He tosses his phone onto his bed and gets out of the rest of his suit. He pauses in the bathroom to brush his teeth, pulls on some pajama pants, and picks his phone up to set the alarm when he gets into bed. There's a text from Shawsy that's just a row of smiley faces. Brandon shakes his head over it - what has he gotten himself into? - and then sets his alarm and goes to sleep.
Part 2