Title:
A Million Tomorrows
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: In and Out
Pairing: Howard Brackett/Peter Malloy
Rating: NC-17 (I know, finally!)
Disclaimer: No, they’re not mine. They belong to
Paramount and Paul Rudnick, and I don’t want to talk about it.
Status: new/complete
Date: 7/01
Series/Sequel: sequel to It Might Have Been, which
was the sequel to Men Don’t Dance, and that was the sequel to Peter Kissed Me,
which started the whole thing.
Summary: It’s Howard’s wedding night, but he
isn’t spending it with Emily.
Warnings: m/m, spoilers for the movie
Notes: As always, this goes to Silk and Gail, who are
always there for me.
A Million Tomorrows
Part1/1
The wedding ring quilt that my mother had given Emily as a
gift was folded down neatly across the bottom of the queen-sized bed.
Peter was lurking by the bedroom door. I stepped into my
room. “What took you?” he asked as he removed the bottle of olive oil from
my suddenly nerveless fingers and set it on the dresser.
“I…uh…” I couldn’t help noticing he already had a
condom on.
“A little over-dressed, aren’t we, Howard?”
“I…uh…” I was a little disappointed. I had wanted
to roll the condom onto him.
“I love a man who has a way with words!” He tossed my
dangling tie over his shoulder and went to work unbuttoning the jabot of my
dress shirt.
I licked my lips, unable to tear my eyes from Peter’s
mouth. His right hand tightened on my shirtfront, and his left hand stroked
through my hair. Then he urged my face closer, and his mouth caressed mine.
A whisper of sound passed from my lips, and Peter swallowed
it hungrily. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth, and then slid easily in. I
knew from the first time he kissed me that he was a considerate lover. While
there had been no question that I was being well and truly kissed, I hadn’t
felt as if he was trying to play ping-pong with my tonsils.
My shirt was gone, and Peter’s arms pulled me closer to
his body, gliding his lightly furred chest back and forth over my naked torso.
Hard and aching, my nipples stood to attention, begging to be toyed with.
I turned my head to catch my breath. “Peter, please!”
“Please what, babe? Do this?” He lipped his way up my
throat. “Or this?” His teeth nibbled on my ear lobe. “Or maybe this?” I
could feel his lips purse, and then he blew into my ear.
My cock was so hard I thought I would explode right then. I
shuddered and grabbed his head, forcing his mouth back down onto mine.
Somehow I managed to get my tuxedo trousers unfastened, and
they slid down my legs. Peter stepped back and ran his hand over the front of my
shorts. He traced the outline of my cock, and it quivered and began to bead with
precome.
Peter drew his fingernails over the damp patch, and then
tugged at the waistband of my shorts. When my cock sprang free, he caught his
breath. “Oh, baby!”
I blushed and tried to step back, but his hands were firm
on my hips. Before I realized what he had in mind, Peter dropped to his knees
and took me in his mouth. The sound I made was somewhere between a squeak and a
yelp.
His tongue dipped into the slit at the tip while his hands
caressed my ass, stroking over the sensitive skin behind my balls and probing my
hole. I moaned, and my knees gave out, and I collapsed. My cock popped free, and
Peter gave a huff of laughter. He got to his feet, with me dangling over his
shoulder, and tossed me onto the bed.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”
he asked as he reached for the bottle of oil.
“Um, a couple of days?”
“Would you believe since Cameron Drake was nominated for
best actor Oscar?” He grinned, and so help me God, his eyes sparkled! “Roll
over, babe. And relax!”
I swallowed hard and turned onto my stomach. I really tried
to relax, but when I felt the cool wetness pooling at the base of my spine, I
flinched and tensed up. Peter slicked the oil over my lower body and kneaded it
into my flesh. He parted my buttocks and slid a finger into me.
He wasn’t in any rush, though. He kept working that
finger in and out of me, adding more oil, and every once in a while, rubbing
across a spot that made me see fireworks. I spread my legs and tried to wiggle
backwards, suddenly finding myself invading by two fingers.
I began rubbing against the satin sheet that I had made the
bed with for my wedding night. And suddenly I realized…
“On your side, baby.” Peter eased me over and bent my
left leg.
Something large and blunt was pushing steadily at the tight
ring of muscle that guarded my opening. But Peter had lubricated me so well that
he breached me with no problem at all.
And suddenly he was balls deep in me, the wiry hair at his
groin abrading the curves of my ass. He pulled back until just the head of his
cock was inside me, and then shoved back, crossing my prostate and startling a
moan from me.
“Jesus, Peter!”
“Do you like this, Howard? Does it feel good?”
“Peter! Just shut up and fuck me!”
And he did.
****
My head was buried under a pillow, and I was spread out on
the bed. Warm lips nuzzled over my shoulder to where it joined with my throat.
“Mmm.” I turned onto my back and wound my arms around my lover’s neck and
pulled him down to me. “Peter!” I kissed him.
“Morning, babe.”
I peeled open an eye. And sat up abruptly. “You’re
dressed!”
“I’m just running out for some breakfast. I didn’t
want you to wake up and think I had left you.”
“There’s stuff in the fridge,” I murmured as I began
unbuttoning his shirt. “I can make you something.”
“Howard, I’m trying to be strong, here. Graduation is
in an hour!”
“Damn!” I tossed aside the sheet and climbed out of
bed. “Okay, Peter. There’s a McDonald’s just down the road. Get me an egg
and sausage McMuffin and a coffee, dark, no sugar.”
“Hey!”
I glanced over my shoulder, grinning at him. “Yes?”
“Are you already taking advantage of me?”
I nodded. “Do you mind?”
“Hell, no! I plan to bring you back here after graduation
and take advantage of you!”
“Sounds good to me!” I watched as he left my bedroom,
and then got a good look at the bed. “Oh, good God!”
The bed was a disaster, pillows on the floor, the fitted
sheet half off the mattress, the mattress half off the box spring.
But Peter had taken such care with me that aside from a
slight soreness, I felt fantastic.
****
I was just knotting the blanched almond tie, which I always
matched with the summer-weight suit of the same shade, when I heard a murmur at
the door.
“You’re dressed!”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I usually am, this time of
the morning.”
Peter sighed. “I was kind of hoping I could help you
select your outfit today.”
“Really?” That thought intrigued me. Peter going
shopping with me, holding up shirts to see if they matched my eyes.
Unbelievably, I found myself growing hard. “Another time?” I asked
hopefully.
“You bet!” He waggled the white bag with the red and
yellow logo on it. “Hungry, brown eyes?”
He stepped aside and allowed me to leave the room. And then
he spoiled the chivalrous act by squeezing my ass.
“Peter Malloy! Fresh!”
“I am, aren’t I?” He snatched a kiss and then patted
my ass, urging me down the stairs to the breakfast nook. Peter handed me a
styrofoam cup and took the other one. I watched with interest as he took a sip.
“Ugh! I must have yours!”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Taste it! No, on second thought, don’t taste
it, it’s awful!”
Curious now, I took the cup from him and drank cautiously.
“There’s nothing wrong with this coffee.” I took a sip from the other cup.
“Oh, now that’s horrible!”
Peter snatched it, and it was his turn to taste it
cautiously. “No, this is fine. It’s how I always have my coffee. I like it
sweet.”
“That’s beyond sweet!” I leaned in close and pressed
my lips against his. His tongue surged into my mouth, bringing with it the
sugary taste of his coffee. I sighed and nestled closer.
My lover smiled and took a bite of his egg McMuffin. “So,
what’s on the agenda after graduation? As if I didn’t hope.”
Just then the phone rang. I couldn’t take my eyes off
Peter’s mouth, and I fumbled for the phone.
It was Tom Halliwell, the principal. I could feel myself go pale. A quick glance
told me that Peter Malloy was examining the contents of his breakfast sandwich
and muttering something about ketchup. I turned my back on him and listened to
the sibilance in my ear. Halliwell was still talking when I hung up.
Peter handed me my McMuffin. “Eat up, babe, we’re going
to be late.”
“Oh, er, I was thinking I might skip graduation this
year. I have to clear out my classroom, you know, and...”
“Howard, you have to go! This is important!”
“Why is it so important? There’ll be other public
ceremonies. I just can’t face these people so soon after that debacle of my
wedding! Maybe in a couple of days…”
“It’s like falling off a horse! If you don’t get
right back on, you’ll never ride again!”
“I never liked horses.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“This isn’t something to joke about, Howard! You’re
up for Teacher of the Year. I want to get that on film!”
“Oh wait a minute, I see what it is. You’re going to be
there, with your cameraman, aren’t you? Is that all I am to you, Peter? Just a
sound byte?”
“Babe, you know that isn’t true! I care about
you!”
“Do you? Then leave the cameraman behind, and I’ll
consider going to the graduation.”
“I can’t do that, Howard. This is my job.”
“And it’s my fucking life! I didn’t hit you hard
enough yesterday!”
“Howard, I don’t think this has anything to do with me
filming the graduation. You had no problem with me taping your wedding.
Something else is going on here. Talk to me, babe!”
I reached for him, my hand closing tightly on his sleeve.
My mouth was so dry I could barely get the words out. “That was Halliwell,
just now. He said the schoolboard has withdrawn my nomination for Teacher of the
Year.”
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry!”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand. That wasn’t important. They don’t want me at the graduation. They said I’d spoil it for the kids! They don’t want me!”
~End~
