Planning is Everything - 1. Planning is Everything

~ Planning is Everything ~

Plans are nothing; planning is everything. ~ Dwight D. Eisenhower

To Martin Brown’s mind, anything was possible, provided you had a plan. Unfortunately, plans had a tendency to go awry.

“Yes, yes,” he hissed into his cell phone as he slammed his car door and jammed the gearshift into drive. “I’m there. Five minutes.”

“Marty…”

“Five minutes.” Gritting his teeth, Martin let the phone fall from his shoulder as he pulled into traffic. He swore at the inevitable gridlock and glanced at his wristwatch. Everyone and their uncle were headed to a New Year’s Eve party. Flashing lights in the other direction indicated that the police were out in full force, too.

His phone rang and he fished it out from between the seats. “What, Nate?”

“Hey, don’t bite my head off!”

“Julie?”

“What’s my brother done now?”

Martin sighed. “No, Jules, it’s my fault. Nate’s trying to help me and I’m late.”

“Why? You and Chuck aren’t fighting again, are you?”

“Dare I ask why that’s the first thing you thought of?”

There was silence on the other end. Martin let it pass until he was able to squeeze his way past the exit for the turnpike. Home was that way, but he wasn’t going there.

“Julie?” he prompted.

“I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“You called me.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Either tell me what’s bothering you, or let me hang up before I get pulled over.”

The woman on the other end snorted. “It’s New Year’s Eve, Marty; the police have other things to deal with than some guy -- sober, I might add -- using his cell phone in the car.”

“Well, you would know.”

“Marty!”

He smirked. “You are the one with three DUIs.”

“That was ten years ago, you shit. I’d just gotten divorced, what would you of done?”

“Taken a cab?”

“Oh, kiss my ass.”

“Is that why you’re calling? Because, well, you’re not my type.”

“And Nathan is?”

Traffic wasn’t budging, so Martin took the moment to take his phone into his hand. He stared at the display for a moment, considering. Julie Carroll was his best friend’s sister. Was she fishing or had something happened?

“Julie,” he said, lifting the phone back to his ear. “You know that Chuck and I aren’t exclusive.”

“I know, I just --” she broke off and Martin could imagine her chewing on a perfectly manicured nail. “It’s just that every time you and Chuck fight, you call him up and any relationship he’s in goes to shit.”

“It’s not my problem if those guys didn’t understand our relationship, Julie.”

“You’re a bastard, Martin Brown.”

“This is not news.”

“Marty…”

“Will you relax? Nate’s helping me with a surprise for Chuck.”

“That’s all? You swear?”

This must be pretty serious. Why hadn’t Nate said anything?

Martin nodded into his phone and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jules. Besides, Nate’s a big boy, fully capable of telling me to piss off if --“

“You’re his best friend,” Julie interrupted. “He’d do anything for you, but he’s just seeing this guy now and he’s really great, Marty. I just don’t want to see anything mess that up.”

“Okay, okay. Would you quit worrying? Nate has nothing to fear from me. Seriously.” At last the traffic eased and Martin inched his car forward a few more feet.

“I’m sorry. It’s just --“

“You’re his sister; I get it. You promised to feed me to the fishes if I hurt him, if I remember correctly.”

“Martin!” She swore and Martin stifled his snickers. Evidently not well enough, however, for she said, “Why you gotta remember crap like that?” There was a loud sigh. “Okay, so if you’re not messing around with my brother, then what are the two of you up to?”

“It’s a surprise, Jules.” He lost the phone momentarily to navigate traffic. Only a few more exits. He looked at his watch again.

“Marty? Martin!”

“What, Jules?” A nearby siren almost drowned him out.

“Where are you?”

“On the highway. Where do you think I am?”

“It’s kind of late to just now be going to a party, isn’t it? It’s almost midnight.”

“I am quite aware, Jules.” There was his exit! Martin began inching his way in that direction. He looked at his watch. He wasn’t going to make it. “Look, Jules, do me a favor? Call Nate and tell him I’m going to be late. Make sure he doesn’t let Chuck leave.”

“What? Why? Is he with Chuck? Where are they?”

“Jules, just please do it, okay?”

“Give me one good reason.”

“Because,” he blew out his breath. “Because when you decide to start the rest of your life, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawled. “That sounds like a really cheesy movie quote.”

“Just call him. Then go find yourself someone to kiss. You’ve got, like ten minutes, tops.”

“You’re just an ol’ softy at heart.”

“Jules…”

“Okay, okay, I’m going.”

With some relief, Martin snapped his phone shut. He banged his palms on the steering wheel as traffic snarled again. Why weren’t all these people at some party right now? It was like some law, that if he really, really needed to be somewhere on time, then the world would conspire against him to make him late.

Like this closing, for example. This appointment had been pushed back or delayed for one reason or another until Martin felt sure that either the seller or the bank was backing out. Then, the last-minute rush to get the paperwork signed. Sometimes, being in business for himself really sucked. But he really needed the money. He just hoped that Chuck would still be at the club when he got there.

On the radio, the DJ started the count-down. Fifteen minutes later, Martin hopped out of his car, a paper sack in his hand and his gift heavy in his pocket. He yelped as he slipped on the ice, grabbing hold of the car door for balance. Yelps turned into curse words as Martin stumbled hard into the car and slammed his fingers in the process.

He was wet and tired and cranky by the time he used his good hand to yank open the door to the club. The door guard staggered to his feet to open the inner door, blasting Martin with heat that made his injured fingers throb.

Another man swooped in. “Marty! ‘Bout time you got here! What the hell?” The bag thrust in his chest rocked him back on his feet.

Martin started shucking his clothes, much to the consternation of the door guard. “Is he here?” he asked, yanking off a boot. “Tell me he’s still here, Nate!”

“Yeah, I said I’d do it, didn’t I? Chill out.”

Hearing laughter in his friend’s voice, Martin paused to glare at him before snatching the bag back and swearing at the impact with his bruised fingers.

The snickers became outright laughter as Martin couldn’t get his fingers working well enough to straighten out the leather of his chest harness.

“Here, hold still.”

“I can do it, Nate!”

“Uh…”

They both looked up at the hulking guy hovering in the club’s entrance. Martin almost laughed over how ill at ease the guy looked considering the kind of club this was. Not, of course, that he would know, having never been in a club like this in his life.

Nate caught his arm. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” He glanced significantly back at the guard.

“No, no, I want to do this right, Nate. I told you --“

“I know, but this really isn’t your scene.”

Martin straightened. “Why are you trying to talk me out of this now?”

“Well, you know…” Nate scratched his head sheepishly. “I thought you were crazy when you first asked me to come here, but, hey, I thought, you know, being undercover would be kinda cool. And then I actually started meeting the guys and hanging out and it’s not what I thought at all.”

Martin stared as his best friend’s face grew redder and redder. “Did you, uh, convert?”

Nate burst out laughing, even as his face turned lobster red. “That’s -- no, not exactly. Just, it’s not what I thought, okay?” He played with the strip of leather masquerading as a bracelet on his right wrist.

“So, are you a dom or a sub?” Martin asked after a moment, hesitating on the words and uncertain if he’d said them right. His lips quirked; he hadn’t thought Nate could even get that red! Then he took a closer look at his friend’s clothing, or lack thereof.

When Nate had bought this stuff for him, he’d promised it was neutral between the two aspects of the S&M world. Martin hadn’t been quite sure about all that, but he’d seen pictures and done his own research, so he figured that at least he wouldn’t be walking in there with a big sign on his back saying, “Fuck me now.” The leather pants were skin-tight and made him self-conscious even without the strange contraption strapped around his chest. There were steel-toed motorcycle boots and leather cuffs similar to what Nate wore, and a cap to help disguise his receding hairline. It was very cops and robbers, in a clichéd, porno kind of way.

“Are you sure this looks okay?” he asked, tugging on the belt wrapped lopsided around his hips. He’d never really been comfortable shirtless.

“Yes. I swear, Marty, it’s perfect.”

Martin grimaced through a small smile for how Nate shrugged off his own discomfiture to try and reassure him. As the door guard made as if to interrupt them again, Nate took the man aside. Martin reached for his coat and the box in the pocket, staring at it until he felt the weight of his best friend’s gaze.

“I wish I had your body,” he confessed, glancing at the door.

“There’s nothing wrong with your body,” Nate replied, rolling his eyes.

“Am I trying too hard?”

Nate squinted at him. “It’s okay to have second thoughts, you know. This lifestyle isn’t for everyone.”

“No, I know, and I know what I’m getting into.” He closed his eyes a moment. Chuck had offered several times to introduce Martin to his world and he’d always declined. The whole idea made him uncomfortable.

Stepping into his line of sight, Nate cleared his throat. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. I want to be in Chuck’s life, all of it. He deserves that, and I, well, I no longer want to share.” He dropped his eyes. “I’ll do what it takes.”

“Marty…”

“No, Nate, I’m going to do this. Now, take me to him, and then get out of the way.”

“I know the plan, Marty.”

Noise and heat rolled in with the door opening. The club beyond was packed. Martin stayed close on Nate’s heels, feeling his heart rate speed up as the whole club seemed to stare at him the second he stepped through the doorway. In seconds, sweat dripped down his back, absolutely guaranteed to be a turn-off combined with his expanding waistline and age marks.

He knew he was supposed to act all cool and suave, like Nate with his confident sashay, but Martin could only see bare skin and leather everywhere he looked. What, was Nate crazy? He didn’t fit in here!

“Marty. Marty, you okay?”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Don’t be stupid. Look, he’s right over there.”

Martin looked and saw a blond guy that looked like that guy from the “I can’t believe it’s not butter” commercials, or like Thor from the Hollywood blockbuster. His brows went up as he turned back to Nate, but his friend was pushing him forward.

“Go, dummy! All Chuck’s been talking about all night is going home. George and I practically had to sit on him to make him stay.”

“George?”

Nate shoved him again and Martin stumbled just as the crowd thinned and the Thor-guy sat back. On his other side sat a hunk of sexy, chocolate skin and mocha eyes that widened as they met his.

Chuck Knight was taller than average, a little on the skinny side, and with the biggest hands Martin had ever experienced on a man. Tonight he wore black leather shorts that blended with his skin and for an instant, Martin thought he was naked. He almost choked on jealousy when Chuck rose and Thor grabbed his elbow.

“Marty!” Nate hissed, a hand in the center of his back to nudge him forward again.

They’d rehearsed the exact way to do this and Martin had memorized his lines, but everything he’d learned went straight out of his head by the time that the man he’d fallen in love with loomed up out of the crowd, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kissed him.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, baby,” Martin parroted, grinning. “Happy New Year.”

Those lips that he loved so much widened in an answering smile before turning into a frown. “Baby, what’d you do to your hand?”

As if those words were a cue, Martin’s hand gave an unhappy throb. He winced at the reminder and thrust his hand behind his back. “Nothing! I, uh, I -- here.” He jammed his gift into his lover’s chest.

“What’s this?” Chuck’s baritone voice never failed to send shivers down Martin’s spine when coupled with the look he was getting now.

“Just open it.” He caught his breath, unconsciously inching forward. He didn’t hear Nate snicker behind him, focused as he was on Chuck’s big hand ripping off the shiny bow, tearing open the paper, and wedging off the lid.

The falling box revealed a wide, leather collar. Martin swallowed, staring up into his lover’s eyes to watch his reaction. To Martin, the thing looked like a dog collar, complete with studs. What was unusual was the lock at the back.

The silence dragged on until Martin finally had to say something. “Is it okay?” He almost reached out, but his fingers twinged and he dropped them. “I mean, I know it’s not a --“

“Martin.” The emotion rippling through Chuck’s usually mellow voice sliced through the party noise and swallowed Martin in a full-body caress. “Do you know what this is?”

“Yes,” he unstuck his tongue enough to whisper. “The key’s in the box.”

Chuck bent down to retrieve the box he’d dropped, leaving Martin to stare at Thor and the man wrapped around him that he could almost swear was Nate. He frowned and opened his mouth, but then Chuck was back in his face with two small keys pinched between his finger and thumb.

His mocha eyes were solemn. “You want me to put this on you, baby?”

“I know I’ve been … reluctant to commit to anything,” Martin said, folding his arms across his chest and feeling cold despite the teeming club-goers. “But,” he licked his lips and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do. For years now, you’ve been the only one I’ve wanted. It’s just, I want to be the only one for you, too. I’ll do whatever it takes. God, don’t look at me like that! I want to be in your life! I want --“

“Baby, you are my life. You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do! I know you can’t be happy -- really, truly happy -- without this aspect of your life and I don’t want the need for it driving you away from me. I can do it! I’m not a coward.” Martin moaned into the kiss that swallowed his mouth.

“No, baby, you’re not a coward.” The words rumbled across Martin’s lips, making him shiver. “You’re just a control freak.”

He frowned. “I am not.”

“Sure you’re not,” Chuck agreed and Martin frowned, certain that Chuck was poking fun, but the click of the lock opening silenced any protests. His eyes went right back to the collar.

“Put it on me,” said Martin. “Make me yours. Then I want you to move in. We’ll buy a house, a dog, paint a fence, whatever you want.”

The collar was like ice on his skin and Martin hissed. One hand went to his throat and where the collar pressed when he swallowed. The lock snicked closed and he looked up again to see Chuck’s lips hovering right over his.

“Baby, you’re already mine.”

“The only one?” Martin tugged on the collar.

“The only one,” Chuck replied.

“I’m not calling you master.”

Chuckling, Chuck swooped in for a kiss. “Maybe I’ll just call you master.”

Martin leaned into the big man, tingling all over as he slid his arms around so much naked skin. Who knew being half-naked in a crowd of people could be such a turn-on?

“Baby, what’re you thinking?”

He craned his head back to look up without surrendering his spot. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

Chuck’s brows came together and Martin held his breath.

“I mean, I want to do this, and everything I’ve read says its endorphins or something and it’ll be okay, but -- Are you laughing at me?”

“Baby, come sit down.”

As they’d been talking, the club had emptied. The lights came on as Chuck’s big hand enveloped Martin’s and pulled him toward a table. Something slithered against Martin’s ankle and he jerked, staring down at ankle-deep debris: balloons, plastic cups, confetti, napkins, tiny pieces of plastic, and other things Martin was too distracted to identify.

Chuck sat down, tugging Martin onto his lap and sliding an arm around his waist. “I love this look on you,” he murmured. His brows came together. “What are you thinking now?”

“It doesn’t look any different,” Martin answered, staring up at the second level and the staff members beginning to usher out the remaining partiers.

“Did you expect orgies in every corner?”

“No.” Martin scowled down at his lover. His lips twitched. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I would never do that.” He regarded Martin steadily for a minute. “This is really important to me.”

“I --“ Another kiss made him forget his question.

“You know that one night when I blindfolded you and drowned you in chocolate?”

“Uh, only the hottest sex I’ve ever had, yeah,” said Martin, ducking his head against a blush.

“You liked me tying you up.”

“Um, yeah,” he answered even though it wasn’t a question. He squirmed when teeth caught his ear.

“You liked tying me up, too, if I recall.”

Martin swallowed and reached up to finger the collar around his neck. “Yeah.”

“I like when you get bossy. I really like it.”

Martin blinked at his lover as the evidence of his honesty hardened beneath him. “I-is that what you want?”

“You’re all I want.”

“Chuck --“

“No, listen: I haven’t done a scene in three years. Before that, I may have done a scene, but nobody fucked me -- nobody but you -- in four years. Not since we went camping. With all the raccoons,” he added, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“That was scary as fuck!” Martin blushed as Chuck laughed loud enough to turn several heads. “Shh!” he hissed, but his lover merely laughed harder and kissed the side of his neck.

“I love that you came here, but are you sure you’re ready for this step? I know you like your independence.”

Martin’s eyes strayed to the club’s staff, cleaning up after the massive party. “Shouldn’t we go?”

“It’s fine.” His fingers closed on Martin’s chin and pulled his face back around and into a kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, baby. Please talk to me.”

Bottles clinked as someone started sweeping. “I love you and this is what I want. Just, if I have to sit at your feet, you’ll have to help me up. The knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Laughing, Chuck shook his head. “Baby, you’ve got it all backwards! If anybody’s sitting on the floor, it’s going to be me.” He swirled his tongue through the hollow at the base of Martin’s throat.

“Uh.” Tight, wiry black curls tangled in his fingers as he grabbed his lover’s head to pull his face closer. “Chuck…”

“Yes?”

“I want you to be happy. With me,” he clarified.

“I am.”

“But--“

“Martin.”

He shivered under that heat and licked his lips. Even after knowing each other so long, Chuck could still turn Martin into quivering want just by saying his name like that. It was enough to almost make him forget.

“I want to be monogamous,” he said, shaking his head to clear the fog. “I want you to move in. I want --“ he broke off as Chuck kissed him, but pulled back enough to scowl. “Stop that! I can’t think.”

“Baby, I love you, but you’ve been thinking way too hard about this.”

“This’s important!” Everyone knew that you had to make plans for the important things or nothing would ever happen. Rough fingertips ran up Martin’s lower back making him groan. “Chuck,” he moaned, cupping his lover’s face with both hands. The stiffness in some of his fingers made him wince and he felt more than saw Chuck’s frown.

Chuck plucked Martin’s hand from his cheek and stared while his fingers gently traced over the swelling.

“I slipped and, uh, caught my hand in the car door.” Martin scowled at the mirth tucked into the corner of his lover’s wide mouth, but his irritation was hard to hold onto. “Don’t,” he warned, but it was too late. After a minute, Martin’s laughter joined Chuck’s. When they finished, he shook his head sheepishly.

“We should probably have that x-rayed, make sure nothing’s broken.”

“But, it’s New Year’s Eve!” Martin whined.

“Baby, I can’t have you in my dungeon if you’re injured.”

Martin’s eyes widened. “Really? You’ll let me see it?” Images of dark colors and cabinets of sex toys filled Martin’s head and he hopped to his feet, grabbing for Chuck’s hand. “Then let’s go!”

Laughter followed him, dragged along by their joined hands and it occurred to Martin how much he’d come to rely on that laughter over the last few years as the economy tanked and his business teetered on the brink of disaster. He stopped so suddenly that Chuck almost ran into him.

“I love you.”

“I know you do, Baby. I love you, too.”

“No, I mean, I really love you. Don’t laugh, but this is the first day of the rest of my life and I want you in it. Every second. I’m an idiot for not marrying you when I had the chance.”

Hands tipped his face up to receive a blistering kiss.

“Baby,” growled Chuck as Martin tried to recall what they’d just been talking about. “You say the sweetest things, but if you don’t want me to fuck you, right here, then we’d better get going.”

Martin blinked and then leaned forward to whisper, “You do and I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down.” He enjoyed the way Chuck’s eyes almost crossed. Those tiny shorts he was wearing really didn’t hide much.

“Grinning at me like that really isn’t helping,” Chuck growled back.

Gingerly, Martin reached around his lover to cup his backside and press their fronts together. “Maybe that’s the plan.” The leather was smooth as butter. He frowned up at his lover. “You’re not leaving the house like this again.”

“Unless you’re with me.”

“Okay,” he agreed, breathless from the tongue and lips attacking his neck. He tried to keep Chuck from stepping away, but his hand protested and he bit his lip on a yelp. He blinked past the renewed pain waves to see Chuck cradling his hand and pressing soft kisses to his fingertips.

Seeing that he was now able to breathe, Chuck lowered the captured hand to kiss Martin’s cheek. “Go get your clothes and I’ll get some ice. Then you can tell me all about your plan on the way to the hospital.”

“But -- Wait, you want to hear my plan?” Martin cocked his head.

Chuck smiled slowly. “Yes, baby. I love your plans.”

There was something suspicious about the way Chuck’s eyes twinkled, but Martin shrugged it off and simply beamed at his lover. “Okay, I’ve got it all planned out! We have to tell your mom and my mom and we have to have a party and --“

“Martin.”

He kissed the finger pressing against his lips, pouting when Chuck drew back before he could suck it into his mouth.

“Just get dressed, baby. You can tell me all about it in a minute.”

It was only as Chuck disappeared again that Martin realized he had a problem. He had no coat, no clothes other than what he was wearing, no car keys or wallet, and no Nate. He was going to need a new plan.

~ End ~