Part 10


The club was finally quiet when Justin walked through it, unlike earlier that evening. Earlier there had been nose and friends and music and laughter. Justin reached down to the floor and snagged a flower that had been missed by the cleaning crew. He twirled the blossom in his hand, thinking of the day that had passed.

Britney and Lance had finally gotten married.

This morning, JC and Justin had accompanied the couple to the Justice of the Peace. Britney had made a beautiful bride, even in a simple dress in the judges’ chambers. The setting didn’t matter, Britney had insisted when Lance asked if she wanted a big church wedding. She just wanted to get married. So it had been a simple ceremony with JC and Justin acting as witnesses.

But the party afterwards had been anything but simple. JC had insisted that The Deuces be the site of the celebration, and Lance and Brit had agreed, knowing that to argue with JC about something was futile anyway. All the club regulars had attended, and JC had hired outside staff so The Deuces waiters and staff could attend as guests and not as employees. Everyone agreed that the party had been a huge success, and as they waved Lance and Britney off on their honeymoon, they knew the good feelings from the party were sure to follow the couple.

But now the party was over, and JC was in the back, settling the pay of the borrowed employees, leaving Justin alone in the club.

Alone. With the piano.

In the two months since the attack, Justin had successfully avoided the piano. The first weeks had been spent in bed as his bruised ribs healed slowly. Only once did he see his broken hand, as the doctor returned to cast it after the swelling had receded. Justin had been lucky, the doctor said. Only three fingers were broken. Justin ignore the doctor's comments, then managed to ignore his cast as well as the piano.

After that, JC had taken him to Mackinaw Island for a month. At first, JC had treated Justin as if he were made of glass and could shatter at any strong breeze. His touches were light and hesitant, and drove Justin insane. He’d put up with JC’s treatment as long as possible, but finally frustration and desire had overcome him and he’d pounced on JC, proving he was fit and healthy and ready to be fucked. JC had happily obliged.

They’d returned from Mackinaw last week, and Justin had his cast removed. His left hand looked odd next to his right one, pale as opposed to tan, soft and smooth as opposed to hard and callused. He had flexed his fingers, feeling tightness and a twinge of pain, and had continued to avoid the piano.

But there it was, the lights from the ceiling still turned on and illuminating the stage. The rich mahogany of the wood gleaming, the brass hardware shining, the ivory keys soft and inviting. It was the piano that first brought him here…the lure of the instrument had been inescapable.

Same as now.

Justin sat at the piano, holding his suddenly shaking hands together for an instant. He unclenched them and they hovered above the keys. He lightly touched one, then another, then began to play.

It was still there…his music was still there, inside him. His hands were tight and stiff; the movements caused a bit of pain, but Justin ignored this as the notes poured out of him, flowing from his head to his hands, making the piano sing his songs. He closed his eyes and swayed with the rhythm of his music, the feelings in his heart.

When Justin stopped, he realized he wasn’t alone in the club anymore. JC stood in the doorway…the same doorway he’d seen him standing at that first day. Justin smiled as JC approached, but his smile froze as he saw JC’s face.

JC slowly approached the stage and reached out a shaky hand toward Justin. He took JC’s hand, and was startled as the older man just crumpled, falling to his knees, his hands clasping Justin’s waist, his head buried in Justin’s lap as the tears poured out of him. Justin’s own eyes filled as JC cried, grasping Justin closer, sobs shaking his shoulders. Justin shifted off the bench and the two men sat on the floor, Justin holding JC as hard and as tight as he could.

Minuets, maybe hours later, JC finally raised his head. “I was so scared, Justin,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “So scared you wouldn’t be able to play again.”

Justin nodded. “I was too,” he admitted. “But now, you have no reason to get rid of me,” he said, only half joking.

JC pulled back as if slapped. “Is that what you think?” he asked. “That I only want you here for you piano skills?”

“No, of course not. Forget I said that,” Justin said, trying to rise from the floor.

JC pulled him down again. “Justin,” he said, pulling Justin’s face around as the boy tried to avoid JC’s eyes. “Is that what you think?”

Justin shook his head. “No, I know you want me, too,” Justin said softly.

“Yes, I do want you,” JC said.

Then JC leaned in and kissed Justin softly, moving his lips to whisper in Justin’s ear.

Justin jumped in surprise at JC’s words, his movements causing a collision of their heads. Justin ignored the sharp pain as he searched JC’s eyes. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” JC said, rubbing his forehead where Justin had banged it.

Justin shook his head furiously. “No, no I don’t think I did…you’d better tell me again.”

Once again, JC grabbed Justin’s chin, holding him still had he repeated the words Justin had been too scared to believe, punctuating each word with a hard, hot kiss.

Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.”

Justin’s eyes filled with tears as he threw himself onto JC, knocking the older man off balance. They rolled off the stage, Justin kissing JC the entire time until they finally came to a stop, JC on top of Justin.

JC reached up and wiped the tears off Justin’s cheeks, lowering his head his head slowly, nibbling at Justin’s mouth. “Does that make you happy?” he asked.

“God, Josh, I love you so much…are you sure?” Justin searched JC’s face. “If you’re not sure, please don’t tell me this…please…”

JC looked down at Justin, the boy’s bright blue eyes shining with love and happiness. He reached out a hand to grab a curl, winding the hair around a finger. “I’m sure.” He kissed Justin again. “I love you, Farm Boy,” he said, his voice soft and quiet and sure.

Justin leaned up to catch JC’s mouth, rolling over again until Justin was on top. The kiss intensified, mouths opening and tongues dancing. Hands roamed bodies, and fingers were grasping hard, hot erections when JC broke the kiss and lifted them both to a sitting position. “Justin, I’m too old to be rolling around the floor, especially when we have a nice, comfortable bed upstairs,” JC said.

“Will you tell me again?” Justin said, unable to stop touching JC, feeling that if he lost contact he'd disappear.

“Are you going to demand that I tell you I love you all the time now?” JC asked, rising from the floor with grace, pulling Justin up as well. They walked up the stairs together.

Justin shook his head, stopping JC on the stairs. “But you will tell me again, from time to time?” he asked, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

JC tugged at Justin’s lapels, pulling the boy’s face close to his own. “I promise I’ll say it again…” JC let his voice trail off teasingly.

“Yes?” Justin insisted.

“For the next twenty or thirty years,” JC said, sealing that pledge with a kiss.

THE END



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