Glass Butterfly: Prelude to a Iss

One

Patrick knocked on the door of the sterile white room. He greeted me from behind the abrasive expression of a mask. Our embrace pulled me snug against his growing cock. The tips of my thumbs traced downward and around defined obliques, tracing the arrow that pointed to his cock. His definition felt sharp against my fingers. Deep brown eyes held my gaze. I started to speak but a finger touched my lips followed by a voice like a whisper in my ear. "It's ok" it said "we are only brothers in name." With that, I could taste Patrick's tongue with my own. I heard the sound of water on the windows and all the roof tops. Rain had awakened my senses. The sky exploded turning thick like cream. Patrick's back was slippery with it and his body swayed at the hips from side to side, jerking his cock from left to right. He looked me in the eyes, not with the smile that greeted me but with one of pure greed, the mask had changed. "You want me to make it hurt bro?" My heart was pounding, pumping the guilt throughout my body. Paralyzed by the ghost.

I sat up a little disoriented. My cock was still hard from both the dream and the fact that I had to pee. The shower was running in the bathroom so I figured Patrick must have tipped in not wanting to wake me. I rolled off the bed and knocked on the door without waiting for an answer. "How long have you been back" I was asking while fumbling to wrestle my erect cock through the zipper. It was juiced. A perfect drop of precum clung to the tip but was washed away in the stream of my relief.

The water fell silent and the shower door slid open. I turned to face Havier. He'd caught a glimpse of my pride and smirked. "Patrick will be home soon. You may want to clean up a bit" he added with a curt grin. I tried to smile but realized my jaw hurt. It felt like shit. Then it started coming back, to me - the surprise visit to see my brother only to find him out of town, and his boyfriend punching me in the face.

I remembered Havier showing me to the room. He placed my bag next to the bed and pointed out the bath. The fit of his shirt tightened with the outstretched arm. He gestured toward the balcony that held a view of Lake Travis, "here is the closet space, and internet access if" I needed he went on. His biceps bulged and I could see the veins. I remembered the way his weight felt on top of me from the night before. I'd fought the urge not to look at the shadowy outline of his crotch. When he stepped out of the shower I already knew what his dick looked like. My memory of him remained perfectly clear. The part of me that he had touched the night before tensed as he emerged from the steam.

I wanted to stop pissing but couldn't. Havier got out and sidled past. I felt moisture on my shoulder and got a look at the perfectly trimmed pubes that rested at the bottom of a very thin tusk of hair running from his chest. He disappeared down stairs taking some clothes from the closet, not bothering to cover up. His dick was darker than the rest of him, just like I liked. The world seemed to have been moving slow. I could count the individual drops of mist clinging to his scrotum, the way the steam parted to let him pass. The feeling was of bliss. I could feel the satisfaction of my sex. It felt drained. I came into myself realizing that I was still high.

I showered to wash away the cum that had dried on my chest. Flakes. DNA. The proof of things that had been. After that I read in the circular garden beneath the crate myrtles and practiced a couple of breathing exercises to clear my head. The weather was good for May and I tried to enjoy the outside air. I'd picked up a copy of Kenneth Mark Hoover's "Fevreblau" from my brother's office and decided to read a bit. If I like it, I'd take it with me when I left I figured.

A phone rang inside and after a couple of minutes Havier stepped onto the deck and relayed again that "Patrick was on his way."

"Did you tell him that I was here?" Havier just shrugged. What was the point. "Dinner smells good" I wanted to sound reassuring. Like everything was perfectly ok.

"It's Caruru do Par. I like African and Asian foods, so I've been trying different recipes. Patrick never compliments my cooking" he paused. "Let's hope it tastes as good as it smells." We both tried to laugh a little and it felt rather sentimental even though we hadn't spoken for several years, but spent the night fucking like Tina addicts.

The evening of my arrival we had cozied up to a nice meal and grew a lot friendlier than we should have. "I see little of your brother these days. I'm usually here by myself most of the time." It turned out not all was well in paradise.

I asked him how he entertained himself. "I don't know anything about Austin. We just moved here, what? Two months ago when Patrick's, dad bought him the house and set him up with the job. I mean, you know, your dad too."

Patrick could never find his wits about joy I scoffed to myself. Dad had to always rescue him. The things he liked, craved, and desired always came easy. Havier had been one of them.

We'd agreed to reunite and kick off the start of summer, but never set a date. "I haven't seen you in three years, and I miss you a lot bro. I still don't know why you decided to move out of the fuckin country, and I know that's a sensitive issue so I'll shut up but, only if you promise me a weekend." As always, much of what came out of Patrick's mouth wasn't true. "I hope you're not still pissed over that Havier thing cause that's over."

He once said that I was the only guy who knew how rich he was, had seen his hard on and still refused him what he wanted. "I remember that" I'd responded laughing, "it wasn't impressive the first time I saw it, nor the one hundredth." It was only a case of stupid pride that kept me from it; truth is I wanted to fuck those nights and hated the way he teased me. The fact that I wanted him made me feel the lesser of a whole.

Havier had been full of sly questions about what I'd been doing. He went farther than necessary to make me feel welcome. On the drive to the house he tried to embrace the silence in conversation, which didn't work. But, it was nice to hear his voice, even though it was mostly nervouse chatter. He took my bag and led me through one of the four living areas and up the small flight of stairs that were set off from the kitchen.

In the middle of the room was a large counter that doubled as a bar. In the middle of the bar were freshly cut blossoms floating in a flat silver pan that had been filled with water. The kitchen and dinning room smelled sweet, a sharp contrast to the musk of Havier. I found myself stealing glances at his behind as he went up the staircase. From that first long glance I knew there was no way I could stay in the house with that ass without fucking it, or him fucking me. I didn't care. I was pissed at my brother for lying about the breakup.

"Is everything OK" he asked.

"Yes. It's perfect."

"You seem a little distant" he observed, "sort of like you know who."

"No. I'm good. I'm not too much like my brother, you know? We may have grown up in the same house, but Patrick was the one that actually lived in it. I was just thinking maybe we could go into the city" but, instead of leaving the house, we watched part of a film called Three Iron and I ended three years of celibacy before my suitcase was unpacked.

Two

The entire attic had been transformed into the master guest suite. The bed was comfortable, but it felt empty. The angled walls gave the room a feeling of closing in. I undressed down to my underwear and settled in but couldn't rest. When we were kids, Patrick would often sneak into my room and jump on the bed, wrestling me from my sleep. "Hey, looks like someone has got a little midnight wood going on." I did seem to be hard any time he woke me. In fact I think if I was suddenly awakened to the sound of an explosion, police siren, fire alarm, or Armageddon, I'd get raging hard as soon as my eyes opened.

I laid three for hours after Havier and I said our goodnight, fingering my cock which was sticky from that first session. He'd grown much less talkative after. I assured him that things with my brother would be ok, that I wouldn't say anything. Deep down Havier didn't believe that, but wanted to. "I've missed you" he said and kissed me before turning away. The guilt was killing him. Havier wasn't the only boyfriend Patrick had taken from me, he was simply the last. I'd sworn not to ever come around as long as the two of them were together. That had been three years prior, so when Patrick said Havier was gone, I bought into it. I'd wanted the relationship to fail, but feared that they'd live the happily ever after that was reserved for me.

Before my mind started its journey too far down that narrow path, I got up and let in the breeze hoping that there wouldn't be mosquitos. The night air would cool the sting of his kiss, and that part that wanted to get back at everyone. It was all the magic I'd need. At least that's what I hoped. Standing on the balcony, the sound of a car pulling into a neighbors drive could be heard along with rustling leaves, and the faint barking of a dog. It was a different kind of piece than what I was used too, I'd grown so comfortable with the sound of car alarms and the occasional gunshot by then that I felt lonely without them. Still over the din of calm I made out a sound on the air that was rather familiar and my anxiety turned to anger, then sadness, then back around to wanting to fuck.

In the shaded covering of the circular garden, Havier sat in the center ring. It sounded as though he was crying. I started to call out, but caught my breath thinking he needed to come to terms with things on his own. He sat that way for minutes without moving. Finally his voice broke "can't you sleep?"

I walked down instead of answering and sat on the ground in front of him. It took me a few minutes to get outside but it gave me time to think. He spoke slower as though trying to find words that were as lost as the wind. The light from the moon toned down the richness of his complexion. The house pants he wore revealed a few stray pubic hairs and a hint of his shaft tucked in the shadows of the zipperless fly. My pulse quickened and the desire to take advantage of the situation took rise. "I couldn't sleep" I agreed. "Maybe you and I should have just gone out" I said.

He smiled, though his eyes seemed to be looking off to someplace beyond the garden. I wondered how someone as striking as him could become so vulnerable Another reason I I left was to get away from the habits, the drugs, the men, the games I'd played, but ended up searching out some of those same things when I left. From Sixth Street to Boys Cellar, there was seldom a weekend or place in which Pat didn't exchange numbers with some guy he'd met at the urinal. Half the time he ended up getting fucked while I sat in the car smoking and keeping an eye on the clock. On rare occasions I ended up dogging (which simply meant, I watched). He'd crawl around naked on all fours at some party so guys could use him as an ash tray, footrest, or boot polisher. The first time I saw that, I got pissed. Pat told me I didn't respect his being in the life, that I was too closed minded, and "too fucking politically correct about everything!"

I wasn't feeling politically correct about anything sitting there in front of Havier. When he offered me the drug, I took it.

"The first time I came to Pats, I paid a visit to the medicine cabinet and all this crap came tumbling out. He caught me going through his shit, and was insulted. I wanted to find out, you know his status. He said he was safe but, I" he stopped. "It was all part of the game to him. I felt bad. I didn't want to hurt you but decided that I deserved how things would turn out. I used to be clean until..."

"I, don't know what to say."

"He should have been the one put on the spot. I used to be clean." he laughed at the obsurdity.

"We all did" I smiled and willed his cock to appear and it did. Patrick wasn't the first person to offer me the high, but he was the one who succeeded in getting me to try. The drug was taking hold of us both.

"Your brother can be sexy when he's mad." Havier caught my wandering eye and placed his hand where I couldn't see and kept it there continuing his speech. "That night we had great sex, though. I mean really great sex." He paused and let the sound of his voice and my labored breathing settle back into nothingness. The effect was hypnotic.

"You probably don't want to hear this" he started speaking a little faster. "That night we flip fucked for 10 hours straight, switching off every time one of us came."

At that point I couldn't stop the fullness of my erection, and Havier just kept speaking. The words that were lost came in graphic detail. The wind blew harder. He mentioned that he could feel the hair from my brother's ass clinging to his cock, "tickling almost" he added. "I stroked long and hard, trying to fuck him harder than he had just fucked me. When it was his turn to ride, he'd slam my ass harder and it was almost as though I could hear the sound of my pucker scrapping against his shaft. Fuck I think sparks must have shot out my hole that night" he laughed and looked a little wild.

By then he had been slowly working his dick to its full veined glory. His prick looked engorged enough to pop. He smirked and left it peeking through his fly. "You like my dick?" I didn't say anything, I felt that if I spoke in that moment I would just cum. Even the air seemed to be rubbing me right. "This shit is making me as crazy."

He placed a hand behind my neck and pulled me close and bit down hard on my shoulder. I winched back a little only to have him move forward, place his other hand on my chest and force me onto my back. His legs found either side of my waist positioning his meaty ass hole right at the tip of my cock. My dick felt so hard I thought it could puncture a hole through his clothes and slide into his waiting hole. Havier had natural secretions. He didn't need lube to be fucked raw. I'd worked halfway into him before he hopped off.

He bent down near my ear, with his butt pointed to the stars. My hand slyly brushed against his ass with the knowledge that he belonged to my brother. "Do you want to own this too?"

"Nah. I just want to fuck it for a minute" I whispered. He let his hand find my cock and tickle the sensitive part of my thigh. He grabbed the head of my dick and clamped down hard with his teeth. "Fuck!" As a reflex, I swatted him away hard.

He looked at me with perched lips and stood up. "Forget it" he said and slumped away down the winding path. I held on to my prick which was harder than it'd been in a while.

"Where are you going? What did I do?"

He looked at me "your dick is bigger than Patrick's, he'll know I let you fuck me."

"That's crazy! No one can tell something like that."

"You've seen your brother hard? You fuck him too?"

I didn't know where the conversation was going but figured it didn't matter because if I changed the conversation to tulips, we would most likely still end up trespassing. "He wont find out" I reassured. "I measured it. We're the same."

He looked at me dumbfounded but accepted the logic. The wind kicked up another notch, and Havier let his cloths fall to the ground. I quickly slid mine off and immediately counted every blade of grass, every tiny pebble pressed against my back and told him to straddle me again. I wanted whatever he could give me in that moment.

"You going to let me have that right" I begged and pushed my finger against his open hole. The jerk that that little action caused in him made him grind his ass hard against me while pressing me between his thighs. I'd seen guys move like that before, and saw something of myself in the high. The hurt was good. His head jerked violently. I pushed my finger inside his wet pucker. The result was a groan drawn from some primitive place. He bent down toward my mouth and kissed me hard on the lips. I remember the kiss as being wetter than I liked and a little sloppy, but didn't care. It wasn't his tenderness that I'd become fixated with at that moment.

"Please" he said but didn't finish the thought. Instead he worked his tongue down my neck, to my nipples and started sucking. The pace was lilt, I stroked his bare ass in the dance with the tips of my fingers, feeling the grass and stone everywhere. In the crack of my ass, the sensation made me feel open. The sensation was to let the earth in. He worked from left to right, then back again. A stream of spittle ran down the side of my chest to the part of my back that wasn't pressed against the ground, then forgotten as his teeth drew all the feeling and focus from my being into his mouth. He had bitten down and had the other tightly locked between a finger vice. I pounded my head back. More pressure. More pressure. Before I got to the point of breaking he stopped and feed on the leakage from my cock.

Several times he tried to take me full on but gagged. The shifting of his throat, an effort to expel my intruding prick felt good. I grabbed the side of his head and pumped my hips hard forcing him to choke several times. Tears welled in his eyes, and his nose started to run, but I kept going. Thrusting repeatedly, I got the same response so I closed my eyes to block out the night sky and just focused on the spot like a target. After a few dozen well timed hammers he tore my hands away from his head coughing and spitting.

My fingers probed his loose hole while he had been coughing. There was a tightening and releasing, knowing how good that would feel stretched around my cock, it throbbed. And so it began.

We went into the house. Havier led me like a dog using my prick as a flesh engorged leash. In the kitchen I slapped him across his right butt cheek and held my hand where it made contact. I drug my palm at an angle, sliding it off his rump as though scraping off filth. The color rushed to the surface.

"Shit! How am I going to hide that" he yelped. I moved to the side as he tried to grab my cock, wanting to squeeze me hard. I could tell because he ground his teeth whenever the intent was to make me hurt.

"Looks like you'll just have to tell Pat you have a headache for a couple of days, or say what a bitch you really are." I couldn't help but laugh. His balls drew close to his body with anticipation. He was close to coming. The rougher it got the more he liked it.

Inside, before going up stairs he cupped his hands under the crushed ice dispenser and gave me a look. I made a dash around the counter bumping the flower arrangement in the center of the room. They almost slid off but didn't it seemed. He caught me in a hale of tiny crystals that sent waves of cold electricity through me. I bound through the dining room leaping over a chair laughing as I turned the corner fast. I heard shards of ice wiz by my ear hitting the walls. Out of ammo, all he had left were very cold hands and a very dangerous rod.

I circled back around through the living room "too slow" man. "Don't you know they used to call me speed!" After I said it, I realized I'd stepped back into that role. "I'm going to fuck you all night baby boi."

"You think? I thought you only wanted it for a minute."

He hit the breaks when he realized I was heading back toward the ice but it was to late. I grabbed a hand full and caught him as he turned his back. Crack-ack. The pebbles stung and he stopped fast laughing as he hit the floor.

"Ouch. You dirty fucker! That hurt! I should kick your" before he could say it I was on him with the sensation of coldness on his cock and chest. He arched his perfect back and opened up to me right there in the side hallway. I slid into him from behind feeling the rawness of his flesh around the head of my shaft.